Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. Lord, I am sixty.
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