” He did not appear to require any answer to his question. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. Abruptly, Gerald turned. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. ’ She gave him a straight look. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way.
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