"Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. They were just nice. Fast and Loose 415 XXIII.
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