The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. Wood. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. What is it?" "Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance. All her life Martha had been there.
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