"What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. He opened the drawer of the writing table. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked. "A missioner! That illuminates everything. I hope that some day he'll understand how much he owes you. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it.
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