Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. Sydney and Brendon vied with one another in their efforts to engage Anna in conversation, and Miss Ellicot, during the momentary lull, deemed it a favourable opportunity to recommence siege operations.
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