"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. But for him she might have been alive and happy. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. ’ Reminiscence made him smile.
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