The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. Loneliness. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees. ” “All right.
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