” He retorted smartly, looking at her with mischief. I don’t think you understand. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. "A knowledge of the ways of men. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house.
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