At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. Pretty! Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights! “You shall tell me your faults,” said Manning. \"He still likes you, I believe. ‘Don’t tell me. Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained muscles, and bruised hands; streaming with perspiration, and with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for a draught of water; he sank against the wall, and while in this state was seized with, a sudden and strange alarm.
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