‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. “It’s nothing to what I WILL do. The Morning Post was hungry for governesses and nursery governesses, but held out no other hopes; the Daily Telegraph that morning seemed eager only for skirt hands. I think it inadvisable—I don’t want an intimacy to spring up between you and a man of that type.
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