195 < 24 > A CITY IN GREECE, 589 B. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. But not so much a pig as that man. She had had two days of employment-seeking now. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink.
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