After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. He refused. She crushed the letter in her hand. All right, I’m coming. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. He picked her up outside her last period Ceramics class.
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