“You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. She lived, he noted, very carelessly. They are for serving me.
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