The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor. “It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her. And then you go—and half throttle me. Quilt, who was an ardent lover of mischief, could not help laughing most heartily at the rueful appearance of these personages. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman.
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