His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. \" She whispered back. Jackson?" said Wood, significantly. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea.
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