“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. “You’re so unbelievably beautiful, Lucy.
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