‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. "You lie!" Head down, fists doubled, Spurlock rushed: only to be met with a kick which was intended for the groin but which struck the thigh instead. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person.
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