" "Agreed. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. It wouldn’t be you. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. I can't give you my hand; but you may take it. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. . Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. It’s odd, but nothing but cliche seems to meet this case. ” “I’m curious. . But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face.
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