"Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. I'll wait here. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. ‘They hold their nose up, so. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley.
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