I went to her rooms to-night. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. ’ She eyed him. Manning’s feelings, and as Ann Veronica’s mind was still largely engaged with fundamentals and found no pleasure in metrical forms, she had not as yet cut its pages. The one I have is a duplicate. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so.
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