K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. ” Michelle looked puzzled. Then, very awkwardly, he took a stool and placed it at the end of Ann Veronica’s table, and sat down. “I want to lay all my life at your feet. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles.
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