" "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly.
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