She was good to me for the two years I stayed with her, she had a nice apartment in Galveston. "It's a great world," was the manager's greeting. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. I always wondered why he bought my mother's pearls so readily. There were three exit doors. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping.
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