He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. And then she could see nothing at all for his lips founds hers. It’s—Mrs. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension.
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