Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. ’ Shock suspended Melusine’s breath and she gasped. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. “He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered calmly. .
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