" "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. "Why it is astonishing, certainly," remarked Kneebone, "to find any woman constant—especially to a girlish attachment; but such is the case. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Did he not look for her in the morning when she entered—come very quickly to her? She thought of him as she had last seen him looking down the length of the laboratory to see her go. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow.
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