\" Mark was tall and skinny, a mop of brown hair over a pillar of freckles. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. Try your luck with Jarvis Remenham—if you will. At once. She had but to choose. She proffered her neck towards him. “After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am afraid——” It was enough. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. " But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater. Mild, you know, and boon. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance.
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