“There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. Accounted extremely pretty in her youth, her features and person expanded as she grew older, without much detriment to their original comeliness. Upon the steps leading to the gates of the church stood two persons whom Jack instantly recognised. ‘Oh, have you? Well, in that case, I love your little booted feet, and your ridiculously long eyelashes, and—’ THANK YOU! Thank you so much for downloading and reading my book. “Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours.
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