148 “Sure. I am on my way to an aunt who lives in Hartford, Connecticut. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up. ” Then she looked up at him with frightened eyes. ” Her words were slurred with sleep. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. . The doctor laughed. In a sense it alters nothing. My heart cannot take it. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this.
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