She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. “Can you give me any information as to this affair?” he asked. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. ‘Now,’ she said, in an imperious manner that so much reminded him of Melusine that he was obliged to suppress a grin, ‘I can see you properly. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ’ ‘No, but you’ve made up for it since. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 22:48:20