” “No,” cried Miss Miniver, almost vehemently. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. For my part, I think those shackles extremely becoming. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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