A girl—at my age—is grown-up. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. She must weigh her situation. You can come back for these, for you’ll carry him to the gatehouse, that’s what you’ll do. I mean—I mean to do what I can.
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