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was a promise, which I am not prepared to grant you—was made during a moment of mental aberration, and would not hold in law."
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"Indeed? And will you please tell
me what you are doing with those
things and that ridiculous garb?"
"Ridiculous!" cried Miles, in hurt tones. "Why, I rather fancied myself in these garments! To be sure, the cap was bought for a much larger head and the coat doesn't fit as well as it might across the chest; but ridiculous? You have wounded me sorely, Miss Lynde!"
"They belong to Mr. Brough?"
"They do; likewise the easel, the paint-box, the canvas, the stool, and—and the brushes. The mahl-stick is my own. I cut it from a willow tree on the way hither. Would you like to see it?"