I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. Why, Nab, you shake as if you'd got an ague?" he added, turning to the Jew, whose teeth chattered audibly. I took him out of the hands of death. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. But his lips were honourlocked. “Well, because I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked.
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