For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. " And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper. Spurling and Marvel rose too. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. I couldn't accept anything from you. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure.
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