” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. This also struck her as odd. “In two days,” she reflected, “Mrs. Does it?” “I think it does. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. " "Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. “Katy Pfister. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. CHAPTER XXVII. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning.
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