She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. " "Poh! poh! say no more about it," rejoined the man hastily. Except that this music we have been swimming in is divine. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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