‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. Suddenly, such a shout as has seldom smitten human ears rent the air.
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