“He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Herein was the sum of human knowledge in essence. 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. “When you married me——” Her little hand flashed out across the table. He stopped short with a little exclamation of surprise. Old Bedlam 291 IX.
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