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“A volatile temperament—yes, a volatile temperament,” Mr. She was suddenly grave. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. In the matter of his conscience he was primitive; and for an educated man to become primitive is to become something of a child. Her parents totally look the other way. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. I do not think that you will dare to marry anybody else. “I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. She let out a delighted laugh. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice.
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