’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. "Ay, good luck to him! so we have," rejoined Terence; "but we've no objection to take out the dochter's bill in drink. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year.
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