” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. Such pretty manners, she thought. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. You will find it somewhere in that book. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. ' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts.
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