Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. . His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly. You forget that every one is going to the ‘Unusual’ to see her.
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