I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. ’ ‘Yes, she duped me finely,’ agreed Gerald. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. “It’s a new phase in the life history,” he remarked.
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