“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had been brought into contact. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. Stanley poured wine. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom.
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