"My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. " "You are offering your hand to me?" "Without reservations. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again.
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