The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in. "That he couldn't choose any one so agreeable to me. I can smell you. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. She exhorted Ann Veronica not to become one of “those unsexed intellectuals, neither man nor woman. I could not dream of loving you. He certainly bore inspection. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. He was manifestly exerting his mind for her, and she found herself fully disposed to justify his interest. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. He did not like it.
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