“Just the box only. "Where are you going?" she asked. " "May be," returned the man gravely. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. " "But not for me," growled Terence, in an under tone. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. “I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own.
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