It was necessary to think, and think quickly. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. “I suppose you know I like you tremendously?” he pursued. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. "You hesitate—you are deceiving me.
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