His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew.
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