” He crossed himself and grinned. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel.
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