“I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. I can get into my clothes. ‘But for my dowry, what else? One cannot expect that an Englishman will marry any jeune demoiselle without a dowry. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees.
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