Winny, show the person into this room. Miss Stanley reflected on this proposal for a moment. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation.
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