His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. She was instinctively aware of him as she had been of Julian. In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. “We have been all this time—Only your queer code of honor—Honor! Once you begin with love you have to see it through. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable—see him dressed and fed directly. He would always be her friend, too.
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