In time I got over Estella (what a tease—Bentley Drummond was welcome to her).
Here I glanced at Estella, and her face was pale and quiet, and the smile was all gone from it.
In the meantime Estella was warming herself beside the fire.
As the time wore on, an impression settled heavily upon me that Estella was married.
"Estella" Lewis, the poet, lived in Brooklyn and held there quite a court of clever people.
Two years passed, and a small, black-eyed toddler kept Estella company.
