That's one of the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. I told them lies. In the presence of the husband of his mistress Rollo was always dignifiedly cheerful, but he never leaped or cavorted as he did when alone with Ruth. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. .
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