“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. He seemed like a very intelligent doctor and not at all like a snooty archbishop. Pure romantic nonsense on her part. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other. "But first let us secure Sheppard. This done, he let himself carefully down by it, and having only a few feet to drop, alighted in safety. ” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity.
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