"My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. I feel that I shall stifle unless I can do something—and do something soon. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. Wood's charms equalled your description.
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