At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. \"Are you aware that every girl in Princeton Hills would kill for a chance at him? I think it's simple. I miss her a lot. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island.
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