A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. Then she burst into a peal of laughter. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome.
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