He drew a little sigh of relief. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes. In the upper hall he paused to listen. As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. He replied, \"Want to go sit down somewhere?\" \"Sure. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you.
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