"I have a token to deliver to you," continued the stranger, addressing her. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super. To be jeune demoiselle, it is not always convenient. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. The girl, with a little moan, crossed the room and threw open the window.
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