You do not need my compliments. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst into a loud laugh of exultation. Bah.
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