‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence.
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