To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. . “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Amid this portentous hush, the report of a pistol reached the carpenter's ears; and, raising his head at the sound, he beheld a sight which filled him with fresh apprehensions. “Women know these things by instinct,” she answered. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. And yet—Wait a little, you’d better have every bit of it.
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