‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. Never was there another girl like this one. They stopped talking, except to each other. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. Perhaps you will meet him someday.
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