"You have all the world before you. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. I'll wait here. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. Explain to Sir John our feelings. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions.
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