"There," he said triumphantly, "it might have been made for her!"
"Answer me," he said roughly; "is this some Lark of yours?"
"Did you want to see me on—on Business, Mum?"
"What would be done to him?" asked the Hairdresser, with a quite Unpleasant Internal Sensation
"Keep off! Tell her to drop it, Tweddle!"
"It is a Miserable Thing," he was thinking, "for a Man ... to have a Female Statue trotting after him like a Great Dorg"
She was standing before the Low Chimney-glass, regarding herself intently
"For 'Arf a Pint I'd knock your Bloomin' 'Ed in!"
"Why did you not kneel to me before?"
She struck a Nameless Fear into Leander's Soul
Her Hands were Unsteady with Passion as she tied her Bonnet-strings
Leander went down on All Fours on the Hearth-rug
"Stop where you are!... for Mercy's Sake, don't come in!"
"Leander!" she cried, ... "I don't believe she can do it!"
He threw himself down by her Chair, and drew down the Hands in which she had hidden her Face
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