He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. "Then, of course, you must know. Promise me that you will not disobey the injunctions of her whose memory we must both of us ever revere. ” “That’s horrible!” He gasped.
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