"I give you one minute for reflection. In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a yellow pearl. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father.
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