org/fundraising. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. The next morning came a compact letter from her father. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. The lad looked alarmed. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband.
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