“MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. ’ ‘Nonsense, it’ll give Pottiswick something genuine to complain about,’ said Gerald cheerfully, moving to the edge of the trees. He would be so disappointed. “It’s like the Picture and the Bust. .
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