Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. This gloom was impossible. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. Much more temperate; the discreet and joyless love of a virtuous, reluctant, condescending wife. This accident rather confirms than checks my purpose.
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