Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. ” Lucy spoke up, “We used to call that ‘playing the coquette’.
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