" "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. Thanks. He’s a catch, Lucy. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. Perhaps it was just as well there was no inherited memory.
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