I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. ” “But there is not a shadow of evidence against you,” he objected. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. It was an odd room, used principally for the reception of guests and visiting dignitaries, packed from end to end with ill-assorted sofas and padded chairs. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw.
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