He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. “And aren’t there fees to pay at the Imperial College?” her aunt was saying—a disagreeable question. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. Some few of the individuals seated at the other tables seemed to take an interest in the proceedings of Blueskin and his party, just as a bystander watches any other game; but, generally speaking, the company were too much occupied with their own concerns to pay attention to anything else. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked.
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