"And now," said Thames, (for we must still preserve the name,) "you will no longer defer my happiness. Will you answer me a question first?” “If I can,” Ennison said. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement. " Ideas are never born; they are suggested; they are planted seeds. And, stretching out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the flood. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. Is it an old ring?” he asked, returning it. She felt like a dried-up old woman. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand. They were silent for a time. You've betrayed yourself, Thames. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent.
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