” His face darkened. Just then—I was nervous. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. She cocked her head. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. Not Trodger. And that would spoil it.
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