"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. “Michelle, I cannot give you my blessing. Oh, it is unbearable. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. ’ ‘So did your business about marrying an Englishman seem to me,’ Gerald returned. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready.
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