"Dear me!" she added, as she pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her out of it. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. My birthday was on May first. Jackson.
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