’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. "Besides, lad, even an advertisement of a cough-drop is something to read. ” Manning tapped with his racket on the turf through some moments of silence. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely.
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