Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. “I do not even know who you are. “You’re still,” he said, “in the educational years. It’s too valiant, Miss Stanley, too valiant altogether!” Ann Veronica meditated. "May I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of adressing? Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare.
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