“And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. ” “The sooner the better,” he answered. Things happen to women—proper women—and all they have to do is to take them well. It’s wrong in the eyes of most people. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. It cost her seventy-seven dollars. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. That would be an unkind twist of fate. Before ever I knew you.
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