"You will make me the happiest of mankind," cried the woollen-draper, falling on his knees, and seizing her hand, which he devoured with kisses. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me.
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