She did not learn the kind of looks she had been bestowing upon him at a convent. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. "If you are in earnest, Thames," she replied, with a look of gentle reproach, "you are very foolish; and, if in jest, very cruel. The Ragged Edge. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew.
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