“I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. ‘Why, that’s one of the names with which she tried to fob me off. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. “What are you doing?” “Nothing. It was just as easy to pretend she was watching one when she was actually watching the other. One transgression; he was sure of that.
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