“I was sick of the make-believe. "Married!—no—no," replied the woollen-draper. ” The man smiled at him. ” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. . ” She said. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation.
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