Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. Seeing John in Chemistry was the worst. You must be misinformed, Mr. “So how about this Friday?” He asked. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. After a series of mental gymnastics—occupying the space of a few seconds—it came to him with a shock that here was a new specimen of the species.
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