She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent. "I do," replied Jack, carelessly. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. “I think,” he said, “that I am right. If she delayed a day she would delay two days, if she delayed two days she would delay a week, and after a week things would be adjusted to submission forever. “But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves.
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