"But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. By the side of her plate was a small key. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. " "Give me the brandy, and I'll tell you," replied Wood. "My enemy," replied her son. ” She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. A town called Foster.
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