She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. ” This made her even angrier, so she stopped speaking to him for a week. His hand flew across the paper. It loves to sit on your knee.
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