There is no hidden beast in you, Hoddy. And she had been doubting since that walk in the Zoological Gardens whether, indeed, he did simply care for her. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. Marvel. The fashions of the day have become antiquated. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated.
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