“Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. ” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. Now how in the world was he to get rid of the husband? His luck was in. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. . When he said, “Let’s go and see the wart-hog,” she thought no one ever had had so quick a flow of good ideas as he; and when he explained that sugar and not buns was the talisman of popularity among the animals, she marvelled at his practical omniscience. Michelle looked at her pathetically.
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