“I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. 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. While the girl kept the patient from dwelling upon his misfortunes, whatever these were, he himself would have to keep the girl from brooding over hers. But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands.
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