” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. She cried out his name in ecstasy. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold.
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