It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. ” “I may come a little way, then?” he begged. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. This made the eleventh. Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much more expression than they could carry. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends.
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