" "At all events, let me send her away, my dear," supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impending storm. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. " "Pray come to the point, Sir," said Mrs. " "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly.
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