And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. He'll mend, I hope. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes.
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