’ ‘No. Lucy sized up the girl. Poor Ben was not so fortunate. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. Of course there are, millions of them. ” Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste.
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