Thinking Has, Many A Time, Made Me

One Word More. You Look As If You Thought It Tainted You To Be Loved By Me. You Cannot Avoid It. Nay, I, If I Would, Cannot Cleanse You From It. But I Would Not, If I Could. I Have Never Loved Any Woman Before: My Life Has Been Too Busy, My Thoughts Too Much Absorbed With Other Things. Now I Love, And Will Love. But Do Not Be Afraid Of Too Much Expression On My Part.

In The First Place, Cranford Is In Possession Of The Amazons; All The Holders Of Houses Above A Certain Rent Are Women. If A Married Couple Come To Settle In The Town, Somehow The Gentleman Disappears; He Is Either Fairly Frightened To Death By Being The Only Man In The Cranford Parties, Or He Is Accounted For By Being With His Regiment, His Hip, Or Closely Engaged In Business All The Week In The Great Neighbouring Commercial Town Of Drumble, Distant Only Twenty Miles On A Railroad. In Short, Whatever Does Become Of The Gentlemen, They Are Not At Cranford.

Oh, My Margaret--my Margaret! No One Can Tell What You Are To Me! Dead--cold As You Lie There You Are The Only Woman I Ever Loved! Oh, Margaret--margaret!

But The Trees Were Gorgeous In Their Autumnal Leafiness - The Warm Odours Of Flowers And Herb Came Sweet Upon The Sense.

I Wish I Could Love People As You Do, Molly!' 'don't You?' Said The Other, In Surprise. 'no. A Good Number Of People Love Me, I Believe, Or At Least They Think They Do; But I Never Seem To Care Much For Any One. I Do Believe I Love You, Little Molly, Whom I Have Only Known For Ten Days, Better Than Any One.