He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. "And yet—but it is only part of the chain of ill-luck that seems wound around me. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily.
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