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She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that. "Well, my dear, I've a proposal to make in regard to this babby of yours, which may, or may not, be agreeable.
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