"You poor child!" said Prudence. " CHAPTER XI. Her answer was not quite ready. . " "Never!" rejoined Kneebone, with increased ardour,—"never, till I receive from your own lips the answer which is to make me the happiest or the most miserable of mankind. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. Without a struggle he could give up his flesh and blood like that! "I can now give myself to God utterly; no human emotion will ever be shuttling in between. In the mean time, let me advise you as a friend not to irritate him by a refusal, which would be as useless as vexatious. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. .
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