The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. He laughed reassuringly. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. "I'm your dupe no longer. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England.
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