Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. ” “You will shake hands with me, please,” she begged. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart.
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