“I love your sister. The latter had delivered himself from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. ‘Wait for me. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. ‘Well, she’d better learn fast if she wants any truck with me. F. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said. You've a good deal to go through to-night.
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