If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me.
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