The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. "Perhaps you could point out such a party, Mr. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "Married!—no—no," replied the woollen-draper. She knew very well that a new thing was stirring in her.
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