‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. Certainly you have a reason. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment.
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