She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. ’ He sat looking her over in silence for a moment or two, his thoughts revolving around the name and the way it fitted so exquisitely on quite another set of features. She was surprised at his modesty. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one. “There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. ‘I begin to ask myself why it is that I wish to become of these people.
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