82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. ” His eyes were burning. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. And now, let's see who'll refuse the pledge. The last few months had not dealt kindly with Mr. . "If you knew how much importance I attach to your answer," he continued passionately, "you would not refuse me one. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. " Mrs.
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