" "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. ‘You have not the right. You go cheer him up. ’ She spread her hands. He squinted and a disgusted look came over him. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. " "Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper, laughing good-humouredly. ” He crossed himself and grinned.
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