She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. You may go back, Marthe. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew.
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