He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. " "Do you call ten guineas easy terms?" cried Wood, with a look of dismay. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. ” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily. All the same, I don’t admit it. . Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me.
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