Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. “I was lonely.
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