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"No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again. She was, she guessed, close to the library. Mike chimed in. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. "Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. He not only failed in making any impression, but seemed to increase the difficulties, for after an hour's toil he had broken the nail and slightly bent the iron bar. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr.
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