“Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. There was a very white-faced youngster of eighteen who brushed back his hair exactly in Russell’s manner, and was disposed to be uncomfortably silent when he was near her, and to whom she felt it was only Christian kindness to be consistently pleasant; and a lax young man of five-and-twenty in navy blue, who mingled Marx and Bebel with the more orthodox gods of the biological pantheon. Heaven knows why! They don’t marry most of us off now until high up in the twenties. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared. " "I'm satisfied with your assurance," replied the carpenter, drily.
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