” “Would you let me go on studying for a time?” “If you order patience. ” “Why not? Your spirits at least should be good. Don’t imagine that. Mary Remenham had passed on her every feature to the daughter whose advent had taken her from this world. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep.
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