She held up the lamp. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. The Well Hole 336 XIII. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. 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. Then most horribly she was clasped about the waist from behind and lifted from the ground.
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