What is it?" "Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled.
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