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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"


'I am certain it must have been judicial blindness,' she sobbed.
'I can't think how I didn't see it, but I didn't; and he isn't, is
he? And then a curtain rose . . . O, what a moment was that! But
I knew at once that YOU WERE; you had but to appear from your
carriage, and I knew it, O, she must be a fortunate young lady!
And I have no fear with you, none--a perfect confidence.'
'Madam,' said I, 'a gentleman.'
'That's what I mean--a gentleman,' she exclaimed. 'And he--and
that--HE isn't. O, how shall I dare meet father!' And disclosing
to me her tear-stained face, and opening her arms with a tragic
gesture: 'And I am quite disgraced before all the young ladies, my
school-companions!' she added.
'O, not so bad as that!' I cried. 'Come, come, you exaggerate, my
dear Miss--? Excuse me if I am too familiar: I have not yet heard
your name.'
'My name is Dorothy Greensleeves, sir: why should I conceal it? I
fear it will only serve to point an adage to future generations,
and I had meant so differently! There was no young female in the
county more emulous to be thought well of than I. And what a fall
was there! O, dear me, what a wicked, piggish donkey of a girl I
have made of myself, to be sure! And there is no hope! O, Mr.--'
And at that she paused and asked my name.


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