Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference. Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet. " "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. Annabel entered. Know that I love you, that I will always love you. I am five-and-thirty, and I have knocked about in the world and tasted the quality of life.
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