“As it is doubtful whether the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him. “I believe that you are quite safe. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. “John, don’t!” she cried. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs.
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