"
Neither man spoke. When she came to
herself, she found that her brother had quitted the room, leaving her to the care
of a female attendant. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms
…!
"I am a thief!" he whispered. His features
were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little
shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy
contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of
substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own
dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that
distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which
we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. In
the upper hall he paused to listen. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad
music below. And lunged once more. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. “I hope,” Annabel answered lazily, “that you have succeeded. You do not believe his statement?"
"I do not," replied Winifred. C.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 16-07-2024 09:26:01