He paused. She could not but hear; she could not avoid answering,
"Till I have a letter from Colonel Campbell," said she, in a voice
of forced calmness, "I can imagine nothing with any confidence.
It must be all conjecture."
"Conjecture--aye, sometimes one conjectures right, and sometimes
one conjectures wrong. I wish I could conjecture how soon I shall
make this rivet quite firm. What nonsense one talks, Miss Woodhouse,
when hard at work, if one talks at all;--your real workmen,
I suppose, hold their tongues; but we gentlemen labourers if we get
hold of a word--Miss Fairfax said something about conjecturing.
There, it is done. I have the pleasure, madam, (to Mrs. Bates,)
of restoring your spectacles, healed for the present."
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