Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. With her lived a Mrs.
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