"I can't say I do," replied Wood. You mustn't go dressing up Tom, Dick, and Harry in Henry Esmond's ruffles. It was a brief solitude, however. The rejection caught him like a slap in the face. They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her.
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