” “Then I am sure,” Sir John declared, “that I shall not ask you. I don’t half disagree with you, Vee, really; only thing is, I don’t see how you’re going to pull it off. She drew a breath, and sighed it out. I did not know what God had in mind then. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade.
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