He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. Fire; she was full of it. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. “It’s—private. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. The two young fools laughed until they cried. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen.
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