They stopped talking, except to each other. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. ” He said to her, quite unsure of whether or not he was dreaming. Would there be enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey.
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