" "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. She assumed with a kind of mesmeric force all the propositions that Ann Veronica wanted her to define. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. ” He crossed himself and grinned.
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