“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes. I finally got my own set of house keys when I turned eleven. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are.
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