The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. ” He stood before the door. ’ He bowed slightly, and indicated the house behind them with a wave of his hand. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street.
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