"Your answer!" cried Sheppard. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. Not a moment is to be lost. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. It’s best. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye.
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