” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. Still, it was true about men. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. "And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?" "Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream.
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