"I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. "Take care of your charge. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. “In the bathroom. He drew a little breath and stepped back. " "I am acquainted with Mr. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time.
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