It could not be a legal marriage. And, in spite of the boy's resistance, he plunged his hands into his pockets, and drew forth the miniature. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. "I am twenty," said the girl. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another.
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