Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. An electric light flashed out from the wall. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. ‘The whole town is talking. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to.
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