She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. Sydney Courtlaw—Mr. Our quarrel's quite over. Do you expect me, I wonder. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. All right, I’m coming. We’ll have Trodger check it out later.
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