She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. As she learned more and more of his knowledge, she began to realize how much faith and trust he invested in her. Above the housetops it was different. So that as she saw him she remarked to herself very faintly but definitely, “Oh, golly!” and set up a campaign of avoidance that Mr.
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