” “There was no marriage,” she answered. "I should be sorry to persuade him to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. From a man, who was standing beneath the shade of one these noble trees, information was obtained that the horsemen had ridden along the Harrow Road. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's.
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