"It was some time before I could get him to move. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. ‘That’s not much comfort. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. For all that, it is folly. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. ‘Like a vision she were. No, not one little bit. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. ” She turned a firelit face to her husband.
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