She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. It simply doesn’t count.
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