As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. “Sir John is not at all that sort. \"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. She wrapped a leg around him. “I mean REALLY independent. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket.
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