It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. I want to talk to you, and I must return tomorrow. ” “And what are you doing here?” the lady asked. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. The other must call a coach as quickly as he can.
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