And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. The truth was impossible, indecent. . Goopes down on him with the lesson Titian teaches so beautifully in his “Sacred and Profane Love,” and became quite eloquent upon the impossibility of any deception in the former.
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