He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. I’ve told you that practically already. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. His father and mother were a lawyer and a doctor, respectively. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. " "You mustn't think of that, Mrs. Howard Taber.
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