“Young lady! Are you sure you’re of legal age to be smoking those cigarettes?” “No, I’m not of legal age. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. ’ A derisive snort greeted this passage. She slipped it calmly into her pocket.
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