“No, no,” she cried. Edgeworth Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you. Very well, I give up. That was what she was trying to make him understand. He needed to laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. All my plans have succeeded. 5. 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.
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