Her old nurse’s hands returned the pressure. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. still a kid!” He said. 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. " "Odd's me! do you think so?" cried the host of the Trumpeter. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. ” “Sorry. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. CHAPTER XXXI. It may be useful to you.
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