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. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. “A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend.
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