Do you think we could manage that old clothesman between us, if we got out of this box?" "I'd manage him myself, if my arms were free," replied Thames, boldly. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. It depresses one, you know. Meantime, a change had taken place in the weather. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig.
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