Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. I’d ruin the things if I so much as touched one. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for.
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