’ The girl glanced up the road and turned back, annoyance in her face. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried.
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