He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. I felt his heart. I thank God for His sunlight on your face. But it was of no avail. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers.
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