"I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. " "Comin'! comin'!" returned the constable, shuffling towards him. I’ve called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won’t see me. Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. “It spreads like wildfire. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool.
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