The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. “I want to lay all my life at your feet. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. She was working very steadily at the Advanced Course in Comparative Anatomy, wonderfully relieved to have her mind engaged upon one methodically developing theme in the place of the discursive uncertainties of the previous two months, and doing her utmost to keep right in the back of her mind and out of sight the facts, firstly, that she had achieved this haven of satisfactory activity by incurring a debt to Ramage of forty pounds, and, secondly, that her present position was necessarily temporary and her outlook quite uncertain. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial.
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