“She can’t go now. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. " "Why, surely you can't be in earnest, Captain. . ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring.
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