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"I thought you would find a reason for returning to Mr. Mirabel," Francine remarked. Before Emily could reply, one of the maids entered the room with a wreath of roses in her hand. "Mr. Mirabel sends you these flowers, miss," the woman said, addressing Emily. "The boy told me they were to be taken to your room. I thought it was a mistake, and I have brought them to you here."
With another labourer, one Bernard, Mirabel dug, found a packet of dirty linen, and, fearing that it might hold the infection of plague, dipped it in wine, for lack of vinegar. The parcel contained more than a thousand Portuguese gold coins.
The question had been addressed to Cecilia. Francine answered it. "Emily mustn't be disturbed," she said. "Why not?" "She is with Mr. Mirabel in the rose garden. I saw them talking together evidently feeling the deepest interest in what they were saying to each other. Don't interrupt them you will only be in the way." Cecilia at once protested against this last assertion.
My housekeeper is an excellent woman, but I have once or twice caught her rather too near to that door. I think I'll whisper it." He did whisper it. In breathless wonder, Alban heard of the doubt which had crossed Doctor Allday's mind, on the evening when Mirabel had called at his house. "You look as if you didn't believe it," the doctor remarked. "I'm thinking of Emily.
We start, for soul is wanting there! The Count Mirabel could talk at all times, and at all times well; Mr. Bevil never opened his mouth. Practised in the world, the Count Mirabel was nevertheless the child of impulse, though a native grace, and an intuitive knowledge of mankind, made every word pleasing and every act appropriate; Mr. Bevil was all art, and he had not the talent to conceal it.
"Pray, don't suppose me capable," Mirabel said earnestly, "of presuming to pay you an idle compliment. I cannot think of you, alone and in trouble, without feeling anxiety which can only be relieved in one way I must be near enough to hear of you, day by day. Not by repeating this visit! Unless you wish it, I will not again cross the threshold of your door. Mrs.
'I wish we had brought a guitar, said Miss Grandison; 'Count Mirabel, I am sure, would sing to us? 'And you, you will sing to us without a guitar, will you not? said the Count, smiling. 'Henrietta, will you sing? said Miss Grandison. 'With you. 'Of course; now you must, said the Count: so they did.
I was very near crying last Sunday. A popular preacher did it; no less a person that Mr. Mirabel you look as if you had heard of him." "I have heard of him from Cecilia." "Is she at Brighton? Then there's one fool more in a fashionable watering place. Oh, she's in Switzerland, is she? I don't care where she is; I only care about Mr. Mirabel.
And, after an interview: 'Think of you! To think of a whirlwind, though 'twere in a whirlwind, were a case of more steady contemplation, a very tranquillity of mind and mansion. There is a picturesqueness, as of Millamant and no other, in her voice, when she is encouraged to take Mirabel by Mrs. Fainall, who is 'sure she has a mind to him': MILLAMANT: Are you?
The world admired him, and called him Charley, from which it will be inferred that he was a privileged person, and was applauded for a thousand actions, which in anyone else would have been met with decided reprobation. 'Who is that young man? enquired the Count Mirabel of Mr. Bond Sharpe, taking his host aside, and pretending to look at a picture.
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