The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. One point was that she was to wear fancy dress in the likeness of a Corsair’s bride, and the other was that she was to spend whatever vestiges of the night remained after the dance was over in London with the Widgett girls and a select party in “quite a decent little hotel” near Fitzroy Square. His natal burr was always in evidence when he was sentimentally affected. “Why not?” he exclaimed. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. The boat's sure to run foul o' the bridge; and if she 'scapes stavin' above, she'll be swamped to a sartainty below. Until she had left her island, what she heard and what she saw were truths.
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