To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. "Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your advice?" "Would you follow it?" "Probably not.
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