The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. It is so that I may marry an Englishman. And not a worthy tome in sight. He would have to go on; he would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon himself. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. "Well?" he whispered. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history. She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied.
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