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M. or N. "Similia similibus curantur." by G.J. Whyte-Melville
page 109 of 373 (29%)

In after-days he often thought of that happy drive--of the pale
beautiful face, in its transparent little bonnet, turned confidingly
upwards to his own, of the winning ways, the playfully imperious
gestures, the sweet caressing voice--of the hope thrilling to his very
heart that perhaps for him might be reserved the blissful lot of thus
journeying with her by his side through life.

As they passed into the Park at Albert Gate, two of his young
companions nodded and took off their hats, elbowing each other, as who
should say, "I suppose that's a case!" How proud Dick felt, and how
happy! The quarter of a mile that brought him to Apsley House seemed
a direct road to Paradise; the man who is always watering the
rhododendrons shone like a glorified being, and the soft west wind
fanned his temples like an air from heaven. How pleasant she was, how
quaint, how satirical, how amusing! Not the least frightened when that
off-horse shied in Piccadilly--not the least impatient (neither, be
sure, was he) when a block of carriages kept them stationary for ten
minutes in the narrow gorge of Bond Street. Long before they stopped
at Rose and Brilliant's it was all over with Dick.

"You're not to get out," said Maud, while they drew up to the door of
that fashionable jeweller. "Yes, you may, just to keep my dress off
the wheel, but you mustn't come in. I said I'd a treat for you; now
tell me without prevarication--will you have sleeve-links with a
cipher or a monogram? Speak up--in one word--quick!"

Sleeve-links! and from _her_! A present to be valued and cherished
more than life itself. He could hardly believe his senses. Far too
bewildered to solve the knotty point of cipher _versus_ monogram, he
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