Abruptly the sterner look vanished and she twinkled. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. He had fallen off when trying to tie down his aluminum paint ladder. Mild, you know, and boon. "My friends, Mr.
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