Martin’s crush. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. He looked at her, hurt. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. ‘You have no need to be afraid of us. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity.
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