The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. She was delivered home by 11:30pm. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. "Has any one been here?" he asked.
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