She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. As he moved about upon the starling, Mr. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. I can’t afford to get behind. But I'll never part with your irons. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. He kissed her again.
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