She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. So it was with Gosse, who had wanted to marry her. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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