She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. org. ” “It is very nice of you to think of it,” Anna said briskly. It drives one mad at times. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck.
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