"Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. Her eye met his four inches away, and his was glaring, immense, and full of resolution, a stupendous monster of an eye. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. Wood's. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. This was no light conquest; nor was it a government easily maintained.
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