Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. After all, life had still its pulsations.
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