"Here are a pair of gloves and a nosegay for you. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion. “It’s precious unromantic. "Whatever your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it.
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