The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. The pair then descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn, passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild's door. Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. Easy enough. Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. " "Do girls have puppy-love?" "Land sakes, yes! On the average they are worse than the boys. She was trembling a little. " "How so?" inquired Winifred.
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