’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. And, now, to find a messenger. I’ve loved her for two years, I love her now. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. "You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely.
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