She could not feel her own body. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. " Thames Darrell was, indeed, a youth of whom a person of far greater worldly consequence than the worthy carpenter might have been justly proud.
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