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 ways of Providence'—that's what they always say, don't they? Still—if you mean that I don't 'tell,' you're quite right. I don't—when I can keep my countenance. Do you? It's always far better not to tell. Besides, if you commit yourself to an opinion, you're committing yourself to gaol."

"What a way of putting it! But it's really true. I should so much like to ask you a question about one of your opinions."

"Why don't you?" asked Fanny, turning her eyes to his.

"Oh lots of reasons: I'm afraid, in the first place; and then, I'm not sure you have one, and then—"

"Say it all—I hate people who hesitate!"

"Well—no. There's a great deal more to say than I want to say. Let's talk about the landscape."

"No. I want to know what the question is which you wished you might ask," insisted Fanny.

"It's about Mr. Brinsley," said Lawrence, plunging.