Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. “Have either of you been out of this room since you discovered what had happened?” he asked. ‘We was of an age, you see, miss. I’M shaken. ’ ‘So you think she is an émigré?’ Lucilla put in before the incensed Roding could respond. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing.
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