It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. “Reuben, come here. Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. Just then, a carriage drawn by four horses, drove furiously up to the Six Bells; but Jack was too much absorbed to take any notice of it. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table.
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