“Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. As to Mr. “I think—we all think that she is wonderful. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. “TROUSERS!” she whispered.
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