It would be too mortifying. Strike the gag, Blueskin. Easily I could have killed you. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted. ‘That is good. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley.
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