She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. "Perhaps that would have been best. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. On weighing the matter over, he grew so uneasy that he resolved to descend, and inform him of his misgivings. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow.
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