The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. ’ ‘But you mind that I say I do not trust you. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. Every one else does. But, go and see who it is, love. But it would serve. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears.
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