. Their conversation hung. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask.
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