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"You will make me the happiest of mankind," cried the woollen-draper, falling
on his knees, and seizing her hand, which he devoured with kisses. Grasping one
of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion
as insolent as it was unexpected. While he was
meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an
old broken and rusty fork. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor
and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat
slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in
the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. He had chosen his time well. “A man can smoke, a man can swear;
A man scores always, everywhere. He became angry. He insisted once again on opening the car door for
her. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the
packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. "To-morrow it will be mine.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 30-06-2024 18:14:04