“Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. " The two boys, then, emerged upon the landing, and were about to descend the stairs, when the voices of Mr. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. Where were you married?” “At the English Embassy in Paris.
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