"I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. ” “I told them a lie. I'm sorry. Melusine was loath to admit how much more lonely since Gerald chose not to visit her. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. ’ ‘Now why didn’t I make that connection?’ Gerald asked of the air in a tone of regret. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes.
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