So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. ‘Help yourself, Hilary. The Tigress went prowling for nut, too. I have never wept since that day. " "Bah!" ejaculated Marvel, gruffly. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. ‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes.
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