I don’t. " "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. ’ ‘And you do not know me. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. You know, I’ve done no work at all this afternoon. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. Think—think of that engagement!” Their talk had come to eloquent silences that contradicted all he had to say.
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