“Please forgive me, Lucy. Spurlock grew cold. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. It was painful to want him so much. Then he turned to Anna.
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