The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. " "Och! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy, there's no more to be said; and right sorry am I, I struck him.
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