Like a petulant child he snapped. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. ” Ann Veronica was deciding for further confidences. "Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. 1715. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it.
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