“Mr. . ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. "We'll see," returned the thief-taker. “Number 13, please, cabman. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. " "And you married me, knowing?" "I married the man who bought a sing-song girl to give her her freedom. I give myself to you. She is something different.
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