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There was a very white-faced youngster of eighteen who brushed back his hair exactly in Russell’s manner, and was disposed to be uncomfortably silent when he was near her, and to whom she felt it was only Christian kindness to be consistently pleasant; and a lax young man of five-and-twenty in navy blue, who mingled Marx and Bebel with the more orthodox gods of the biological pantheon. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats.
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