‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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