Her tone was hoarse with passion. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. “Do you understand what I am talking about? It’s no good if you don’t. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H.
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