ction.  do you t anot t, three?

    Again, I feel to meet it. But t, a sinking, a fluttering—a vague and nameless movement—a sort of panic. s for my reply, and ttering groed so carefully. e ted, already, one dreadful deed, and set in train anot must be done no seem

    to love  o o Sue.  s!  tate,  and release me! But no tate; and am afraid to say o the knife.

    Let us say, t.

    A look of irritation or anger disturbs t . Your talent is better t. t, I assure you.

    last and bo. And t turn, I knoc tairs—as solicitous for my safety, as any of my uncles gentlemen friends.

    ous, soon; but for no least, to somettern.  s, to my rooms, to teaco keep close to me, t is to say; to look and to murmur, o be grave and ostentatiously gallant.

    ttern—except t, whey have Sue.

    And Sue is not like Agnes. S listen and co see t Mr Rivers does not come too close, or speak too confidentially, to ress; but s urn o urn ; but I see oo, steal glances at us from tudy our reflections in tcive  as a prisoner kno seems filled h shining surfaces, each one an eye of hers.

    mine, t  passes bet look at her.

    For of course, t serfeit knoisfaction in t—in t s—is ao me. S kno urns; s point. S suspect t, in seeming to mock me, Ric after urned to e, pero smile, pero grimace, urns to me, and smiles and grimaces in earnest.

    And uring of Agnes pricked me on to little cruelties of my ooo conscious of myself—makes me, nocating. I remble. I rayed by t of my o as