Her eyes looked up and out at you
earnestly, yet not inquisitively, and more occupied with something in her
mind, than with what was before her. In short, she was a lady; not one
by virtue of a visit to the gods that rule o'er Buckingham Palace, but by
the claims of good breeding and long descent. She puzzled me, eluded me
--she reminded me of someone; but who? Someone I liked, because I felt a
thrill of admiration whenever I looked at her--but it was no use, I
couldn't remember. I soon found myself talking to her according to St.
James--the palace, you know--and at once I entered a bet with my beloved
aunt, the dowager--who never refuses to take my offer, though she seldom
wins, and she's ten thousand miles away, and has to take my word for it--
that I should find out the history of this Man and Woman before another
Christmas morning, which wasn't more than two months off. You know
whether or not I won it, my son."
I had frequently hinted to Gregory that I was old enough to be his
father, and that in calling me his son, his language was misplaced; and I
repeated it at that moment.
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