It's morbid to say this; it's unhealthy; it's all that a well-regulated mind like Miss Clack's most instinctively shudders at.
Never mind that.

Tell me the whole of the Northumberland Street story directly.

I know the newspapers have left some of it out." Even dear Mr.Godfrey partakes of the fallen nature which we all inherit from Adam--it is a very small share of our human legacy, but, alas! he has it.

I confess it grieved me to see him take Rachel's hand in both of his own hands, and lay it softly on the left side of his waistcoat.
It was a direct encouragement to her reckless way of talking, and her insolent reference to me.
"Dearest Rachel," he said, in the same voice which had thrilled me when he spoke of our prospects and our trousers, "the newspapers have told you everything--and they have told it much better than I can." "Godfrey thinks we all make too much of the matter," my aunt remarked.
"He has just been saying that he doesn't care to speak of it." "Why ?" She put the question with a sudden flash in her eyes, and a sudden look up into Mr.Godfrey's face.

On his side, he looked down at her with an indulgence so injudicious and so ill-deserved, that I really felt called on to interfere.
"Rachel, darling!" I remonstrated gently, "true greatness and true courage are ever modest." "You are a very good fellow in your way, Godfrey," she said--not taking the smallest notice, observe, of me, and still speaking to her cousin as if she was one young man addressing another.