Maybe half a year, counting this summer. It’s not like we’re getting married. "Well, well, we'll say no more about it," replied Wood; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for consolation, Joan. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. His blood would be sweet with it. He felt her observance and warmed to it. Let me run you for six months.
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