I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers. The Wastrel did not relish this. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever. ” Some one hidden from Ann Veronica appeared to be marshalling the assembly. "Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. "Take my life, if you're so disposed. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern in her voice. You will survive, mark my words.
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