go. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight.
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