“Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. Were it not for your voice, I don't think I should know you. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Something, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys. All this was the work of a minute. And now let's go back to the Shovels, and finish our brandewyn and bier, Muntmeester.
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