He looked at her, hurt. . I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. Too much, perhaps. . ‘Allow me. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. ” “Fine. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. She was shifting, moving back.
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