’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. He was in a curious state of desperation. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand.
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