She came into the room. A boy like John’s dashing friend David Mitchell, someone who shares your love of academics. Loneliness. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. CHAPTER XXVIII. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. " "And you want me to find a minister?" she asked, with ready comprehension.
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