” He closed the door of 109 in her face. The Morning Post was hungry for governesses and nursery governesses, but held out no other hopes; the Daily Telegraph that morning seemed eager only for skirt hands. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. In regard to yourself, you've had a very narrow escape. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother.
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