"I do," replied Jack, carelessly. I'll call it my wedding gift. You are always doing something for nothing, and that is why I love you. . . ” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again.
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