She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. “And then they are swollen up and inflamed and drunken with matter. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again.
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