"You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. I have two days in which to earn nearly thirty shillings—that is with no dinners, and get a situation.
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