"Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. . “Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. My only love is for my poor lost son. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. " The manager extended his hands at large, as if to deny any responsibility in the affair.
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