"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. ” She had not seen or heard from a single one of them since. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. . James's built for offices of the meanest description. She gently placed the car back upon the ground.
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