He had something across his knees. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. ‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. I’ve never had these crying fits before. I have been imaging—” “Mr. That terrible Young Person! she’s vanished. ’ Gosse blinked.
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