“No! I want to do without that. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage looking into the crowded room. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. He declined supper, but took wine. But I'm resolved to see Lady Trafford.
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