‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. ” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. See? You marry me. I am far too much the gentleman. .
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