“You will have some tea?” she asked. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. “I do wish you and your father could come to some agreement. He stole his chance and thrust his hand towards hers. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. But we waste time. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance.
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