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See? You marry me. His spirits began to rise. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. Shotbolt nodded in token of acquiescence, and emitted an odd guttural sound. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. I ought to stay the night through; but I'm late now for an operation at the hospital. Little more’n a week. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of wedlock were necessary.
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