There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. If you hang Jack Sheppard, you'll cut off the flower o' the purfession. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. She bent down. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. " "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. Ann Veronica decided that “hoydenish ragger” was the only phrase to express her. “I had thought to go on to Kandersteg,” said Capes, “but this is a pleasant place.
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