. "Mr. Pity you aren’t under my command. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. I love you. " "And why not?" asked Kneebone, eagerly. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. ‘I do not believe you.
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