\" She said, bashful. While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly. You MUST not, you SHALL not go. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. " "But why not?" The doctor dallied with his teaspoon. CHAPTER X. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities.
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