It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. Then she burst into a peal of laughter. She advanced, stabbing at him. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back.
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