She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. Just because she was sorry for that young fool! "Uh-huh," he repeated, rising and bowing as he passed Ruth's table. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. “I suppose you know I like you tremendously?” he pursued. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. " "Do girls have puppy-love?" "Land sakes, yes! On the average they are worse than the boys.
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