I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. 123 It didn’t take long. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Capes smiled cheerfully with his eyes meeting hers. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. Someday I'll take you down there and have them rig up the coconut dance for you. ’ ‘She?’ scoffed Martha. He brightened as she took off her hood. . "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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