If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. The passage was so narrow that there was only sufficient room for the cart to pass, with a single line of foot-soldiers on one side; and, as the walls of the bridge were covered with spectators, it was not deemed prudent to cross it till these persons were dislodged. And now YOU’RE on the war-path. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. . It was difficult to get right. " "Why not?" rejoined Mrs. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. “I want you so much, Lucy. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork.
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