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Updated: June 23, 2025
The trouble with you is that you are such a chap for accepting things. You're like a hall-porter in a Swiss hotel. You take things for granted. Do nothing hold out your hand and get your perks. Perks! Why, they ain't perks at all. They're bounty what you get from a girl like Sancie." All this Ingram took as his due as due, that is, to a man of passion and reasonable desires.
Presently she opened her weary eyes, looked up, and smiled, then snuggled again. He led her to his office chair, and took her on his knee. "Lie here, my bird, make your pillow of my shoulder. That's more comfortable, I hope. Why, Sancie, you've not been here, in my arms, since you hurt your foot at Sidmouth deuce knows how long ago and I kissed it well! Do you remember that? Ah, but I do.
Lady Maria having departed for her siesta, he came instantly to Sanchia with his hand out for her. "Sancie, I couldn't talk before all those people. You must forgive me, my dear. You are too good a sort you must forgive me." He had to wait; but slowly she lifted her hand and let him take it. "I have forgiven you," she said. He stroked her arm. "That's nice of you that's like you.
But Melusine Scales, the gentle creature, had written meekly of her joy; and Vicky Sinclair said to her husband, the captain "Sancie always tumbles on her feet. She always did like a sweet cat." Shrewd and affectionate at once, she alone had discerned the god's prerogative immanent in the youngest daughter of Thomas Welbore Percival.
You never know your luck, they tell me." He left Clyde and his roses, and turned to the young lady. "Well now, look here, Sancie if works of mercy are toward, what d'you say to one on your own account? Here I stand, an orphan boy, upon my honour. The master's gone riding with the widow." He stopped his rattle, as a thought struck him serious for a moment. "By George, and he's a widower so he is!"
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