If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. ” She stopped, and then suggested: “I wonder—I should love—if it was anything I said. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. ” She said as the car stopped. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better.
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