Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. I always say that it’s poverty before everything that makes a girl skip the line. “How could it not have hurt?” His analytical side started putting in overtime. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. "Now—begin. His glance came up again and met hers. "I have nothing.
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