Not I. The lady whose husband had been Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. So I dare say I was christened Jack. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. " "Too proud, eh?" rejoined the prize-fighter.
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