She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things. “Boys!” said Capes. " "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man.
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