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The Touchstone by Edith Wharton
page 19 of 112 (16%)
felt them to be hands that, moving only to some purpose, were
capable of intervals of serene inaction.

"We had a long talk," Miss Trent went on; and she waited again
before adding, with the increased absence of stress that marked
her graver communications, "Aunt Virginia wants me to go abroad
with her."

Glennard looked up with a start. "Abroad? When?"

"Now--next month. To be gone two years."

He permitted himself a movement of tender derision. "Does she
really? Well, I want you to go abroad with ME--for any number of
years. Which offer do you accept?"

"Only one of them seems to require immediate consideration," she
returned, with a smile.

Glennard looked at her again. "You're not thinking of it?"

Her gaze dropped and she unclasped her hands. Her movements were
so rare that they might have been said to italicize her words.
"Aunt Virginia talked to me very seriously. It will be a great
relief to mother and the others to have me provided for in that
way for two years. I must think of that, you know." She glanced
down at her gown which, under a renovated surface, dated back to
the first days of Glennard's wooing. "I try not to cost much--but
I do."

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