Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. Her cheeks were aflame. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. " "It shall be, Sir," replied Ireton, bowing. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. Sheppard is, without your information, Sir.
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