” He was strangely silent. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. ” She said warmly. " "You at least appear to forget that Mr.
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