The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. "Mine died while I was over here. " "From Mr. A fever of shame ran through her being. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Petite build, like herself. It was a long walk she had to undertake, even if she had endured no previous fatigue, but feeble as she was, it was almost more than she could accomplish. ” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. The situation bothered him considerably.
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