” “How would you know I’m not ready? I’m older than you, remember? Sometimes you act so worldly, as if you’d seen it all. CHAPTER XIII. Rummage, my boy, do. John’s demeanor shifted. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace.
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