That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. "That's tremendous!" he cried. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. ‘Let her go. ‘I have only borrowed it. “I shall never be able to thank you. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation.
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