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Chapter 19

           Thatsmallheadwassurelynevermadeforthewearingofdeathlesslaurels,butratherforagarlandofroses,(sweetandperishable)twinedbyalover’shand.NosuchslightfemininecreatureastheoneInowlookeduponcouldeverbecapableoftheintellectualgraspandpowerof‘Differences,’thebookIsecretlyadmiredandwonderedat,butwhichIhadanonymouslystrivento‘quash’initssuccessfulcareer.Thewriterofsuchawork,Iimagined,mustneedsbeofamoreorlessstrongphysique,withpronouncedfeaturesandanimpressivepersonality.Thisbutterfly-thing,playingwithherdog,wasnotypeofa‘blue-stocking,’andIsaidasmuchtoLucio.

           "ThatcannotbeMissClare,"Isaid"Morelikelyavisitororperhapsthecompanion-secretary.Thenovelistmustbeverydifferentinappearancetothatfrivolousyoungpersoninwhite,whosedressisdistinctlyParisian,andwhoseemstohavenothingwhatevertodobutamuseherself."

           "Tricksy!"saidtheclearvoiceagain"Takebackthebiscuitandapologise!"

           Thetinyterrierlookedroundwithaninnocentlyabstractedair,asifintheearnestnessofhisownthoughts,hehadnotquitecaughtthemeaningofthesentence.

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