He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “It was perhaps my fault. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. The spinsters were not kind; they were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years out of date. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. " Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. ” Lucy omitted the part where she “disappeared” him. It was in her eyes—the big thing that comes but once. “Are you going on again this winter with that scientific work of yours? It’s an instance of heredity, I suppose.
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