” A little blond creature close at hand suddenly gave way to a fit of hysterical laughter, and caught up the end of it with a sob. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. Wood in their favour. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. "I don't believe McClintock would have gone into convulsions at the sight of it. His name is John. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. " "Her ladyship will pass through it?" "Of course; there's no other way.
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