Mrs. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. "I give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog. No, this was not reasonable. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café.
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