He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. “Arthur, this is Miss Pellissier—Mr. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. He hadn't followed this angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a little shrewd selfishness.
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