"Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. I don’t care. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. "You must not remain here another instant," replied Thames. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation.
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