‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. "Curse him!" muttered Abraham. "To me?" gasped Winifred. I told him the truth. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. I never want you to be ashamed of me. But she had loved the man.
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