“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. I declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed.
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