\"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. Give me your hand. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. There was no rush. I mean Miss Charvill no harm. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily.
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