“Am I hurting you?” She asked. There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. I will wish you success or failure, whichever is the better for you. You can’t! I tell you frankly you may break off your engagement to me—I shall hold myself still engaged to you, yours just the same. Run away now, please.
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