She winced as he thrust the fact at her, was about to answer, and checked herself. Now, will you stand aside?" "I won't," answered Jack, obstinately. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. "He's about to cross the river. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. ” She watched his face as he traced his way through these speculative thickets.
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