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1. She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. . "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. ” She shook her fist ceilingward. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. “I wondered. Master Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin'; and you, Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst, I defy you. ’ ‘And it is very stupid of you to think of such a thing, because in this case, why should I seek out my family?’ Triumph rose in Gerald’s breast, but he took care to conceal it. Bah.
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