The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. Brendon. Part 6 Most of the things that he had planned they did. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp.
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