He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk of being called mad. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. “I’m fine,” she said softly. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other.
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