" He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. "I didn't expect this from you," rejoined Thames, resolutely. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. ” He looked at her intensely, his dark eyes deepened with sleeplessness. “Yes. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things.
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