The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. “I thought you wanted to have a talk to me,” she said. " "Stop!" interposed Edgeworth Bess; "Mr. Wood, I forget nothing.
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