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curl (taking from his breast a paper) some ten years ago, will now, in her womanhood, show me some favour?

You have a very soft voice, Thornhill, but my ears are quick. What is the meaning of these gentle approaches?

Can my memory be so treacherous? Have we ever met before last spring, when I saw you in Brook Street?

Yes, gentle creature, I saw you at your uncle's in Cheshire, where you were my harmless playfellow, and I became, by your own consent, possessed of this cherished token, (turning to, who goes up to him sternly.) which shall be taken from me only with my life.

Thornhill, thou art making a fool of thyself. The pretty child who was thy playfellow, and on whose head that curl once grew, bears indeed the same name with this lady, is her cousin, and has a strong resemblance to her, but is, I believe, at this moment in Rutlandshire, collecting pretty poesies for her album. Send her one of thy