"He wouldn't hurt a rabbit. . What'll we call him—Rollo?"—ironically. "No such thing," rejoined Thames. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence. Here she seems to have developed into a brilliant woman with more character and steadfastness than I should ever have given her credit for.
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