"Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. "I'm only a benighted fool; and having said that, I have said everything. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
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