She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. But the great point was still unaccomplished. ” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily. " The girl smiled and began to munch a sandwich.
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