"Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word. “You poor little girl!” he cried. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I.
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