That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. For a long time neither spoke again. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. Manning as they talked. “Am I becoming reasonable or am I being tamed? “I’m simply discovering that life is many-sided and complex and puzzling.
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