I never could. That is very bad, certainly, and for this he was extremely sorry. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. “This girl—she’s really a very charming, frank person—had had her imagination fired, so she told me, by a school performance of Romeo and Juliet. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. The aunt laughed. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. B. She went into shock.
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