“Quite alone, sir. "I'm prudence personified. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. ‘Oh, I don’t wish to marry you. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane.
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