And he could not return this love. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. ’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. ‘You can if you like. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat.
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