They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. I think you will find that his story will be believed, whatever I say; and in any case, if he is going to stay on here, I shall have to go away. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty. Pardon what I have said, Madam.
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