” “Mr. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. ‘She may well try to go back. . " "Help me through at all hazards, Poll," cried Jack, straining towards the opening. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. He's the only native I trust in these parts. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness.
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