The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. ” “Not now. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time.
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