"My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. “To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. "Forgive—forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. "Mr. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. It was the gallows.
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