The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. He agreed it was disgraceful. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. The girl is in it as deeply as he is.
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