"I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. He's neighbourly; he has a jingle for every ache and joy I've had. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. If you forget your sex, jade, I must forget mine. Chairs were overturned. He handed Ruth a letter.
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