"Miss Thornhill's a charming girl. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Narrow little beady brown eyes, and she’s got big eyebrows like dead caterpillars. “There’s no end of things I’d like to talk over with you. She could not hide her face. To her great surprise and mortification he was not alone; but brought with him a couple of friends, whom he begged to introduce as Mr.
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