The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. It was still so dark, that nothing could be distinguished except the heavy masses of timber by which the premises were surrounded; but as they advanced, lights were visible in some of the windows.
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