She put her hand in his to be squeezed. I know he is dead. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds.
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