‘Lover’s tiff indeed. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. ‘This is not a place for a man. The signs of the shops were carried to incredible distances. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. ” “You asked your father for a reason!” Miss Miniver repeated. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse.
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