It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. E. My heart misgives me. ‘I told her you couldn’t have been flirting, but she wouldn’t believe me. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer. "Is it by lettin' you go, my darlin', that I'm to airn it?" inquired Terence.
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