“I doubted my luck, at least. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. ” He smiled at the naiveté of her suggestion. I can't bear it. ‘Let’s see now. Saviour's Stairs. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years.
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