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These were so outside her experience that she found it possible to thrust them almost out of sight by saying they would be “all right” in confident tones to herself. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. " "Decidedly so," replied Edgeworth Bess; "and I'll take this opportunity, while Jack's back is turned,—for he's grown so strangely particular,—of easing him of his snuff-box. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. ” He was slightly tipsy. It heralded you, promised you. "Do you know this picture?" he added, with another significant look, and pointing to the miniature. ‘Parbleu, but it is not comfortable in the least in there.
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