I was the last on board. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. . There is a railroad. “Please don’t,” she said.
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