“You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book. See? You marry me. He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him. “Look here,” he said, protruding his eyes; “why get anything to do at all just yet? Why, if you must be free, why not do the sensible thing? Make yourself worth a decent freedom. ‘Idiot. Go off and live together—until we can marry.
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