He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. “He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered calmly. From long experience with both races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this girl. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. She wanted to turn him. You simply can’t. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. It was a capital diversion; and as usual the Leatherneck bested the Britisher, in seven rounds.
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