She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. " "You shall not stir a footstep. ” “Oh, it wasn’t that. ” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. She fidgeted and looked away. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it.
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