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 eagerly burst forth Vivian, "I am no cold-blooded philosopher, that would despise that, for which, in my opinion, men, real men, should alone exist. Power! Oh! what sleepless nights, what days of hot anxiety! what exertions of mind and body! what travel! what hatred! what fierce encounters! what dangers of all possible kinds, would I not endure with a joyous spirit to gain it! But such, my Lord, I thought were feelings peculiar to inexperienced young men; and seeing you, my Lord, so situated, that you might command all and every thing, and yet living as you do, I was naturally led to believe that the object of my adoration was a vain glittering bauble, which those who could possess knew the utter worthlessness of."

The peer sat in a musing mood, playing the Devil's tattoo on the library table; at last, he raised his eyes from the French varnish, and said to Vivian, in a low whisper, "Are you