“Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. After knocking for some time at the door without effect, he tried the latch, and to his surprise found it open. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance.
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