“Mr. The Reverend Henry Dolby performed the cermony, and his wife and daughter were witnesses. "Now stand before me, Poll. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. Prior to the great adventure, her mirrors had been the still pools in the rocks after the ebb. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. ” She shook her head. He gave glimpses of possibilities. . “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked.
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