The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. "I shall be back presently," replied Thames, evasively. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk.
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