I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. "Jack!" exclaimed Thames. The stipendiary would have done it all very differently. “Is that okay with you? To go down to the station with him?” “I’ll go with him, Larry.
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