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Updated: June 24, 2025
On the page that contained my sketches of the Sidcup arm, showing the distribution of the snails' eggs on the bones, he lingered with a faint smile that made me turn hot and red. "Those sketches look rather footy," I said; "but I had to put something in my note-book." "You didn't attach any importance, then, to the facts that they illustrated?" "No. The egg-patches were there, so I noted the fact.
" If you think that would put her off. It would make her more gone on you than ever. She's that sort. And if you don't, or can't, marry her, what are you going to do?" "The Lord knows," groaned Derrick, desperately. "Look here, Green, you're a gentleman," said Sidcup. "Am I? Thank you. But I'm not so sure. I don't know that I've any claim to the title."
"Is there anything I can do for you?" inquired Sidcup, with a friendly and admiring look in his eyes, which, though they were rather too fond of viewing themselves in the looking-glass, were honest and true. "Yes, you can go and get the property pistol and shoot me," said Derrick. "But leave me alone now, there's a good fellow. I've given you my word."
I'm to go off without saying 'good-bye' to all the people who have been so kind to me. Oh, dash it!" "The only way," said Sidcup, firmly. "And look here," he added, after a pause.
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