Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. “Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution. Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of wedlock were necessary. “I don’t know.
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