“You are developing far too retentive a memory for praises,” said Ann Veronica. “I say!” he cried. This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. “I don’t have time for this. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. “Yes,” she said at last, “it is firm and affectionate. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. "I wonder if you will understand what this kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise—and so wofully ignorant!" CHAPTER XII The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his elbow.
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