"Not that I know of," replied the carpenter, who had in some degree recovered his confidence. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. " "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger. Ramage,” she said, clinging to her one point, “I want to get out of this horrible little room.
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