By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. "To-night you shall be my wedded wife. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. Despair engulfed her at the horrid remembrance that the one particular Englishman she knew to be sympathique did not at all wish to marry her. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. “Any choice as to which of the Halls? You can pick and choose, you know. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings.
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