A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. We can take our things up with us and stay at the Continental or the Ritz. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
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