I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. “And if I were you I would keep away from the fire. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. She was weeping now. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. “Well?” she said.
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