“Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. The fates are never so kind to me. ” “I wonder,” said Mr. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. I don’t idealize you. If he senses fear in the touch of your hand, he'll give you trouble. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. “But how can you?” asked Constance.
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