When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. Then a third secretarial opening occurred and renewed her hopes again: a position as amanuensis—with which some of the lighter duties of a nurse were combined— to an infirm gentleman of means living at Twickenham, and engaged upon a great literary research to prove that the “Faery Queen” was really a treatise upon molecular chemistry written in a peculiar and picturesquely handled cipher. While you live in my house you must follow my ideas.
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