' He muttered it continually. She gloried in it: he needed her. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. “I will not ask you to explain further. “What a little brick!” he murmured. ‘You talk together of me as if I am not there. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. I would that you were my own.
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