“Perhaps, as I’ve only just arrived,” she remarked, “I might be forgiven if I do not change my skirt. We were going at a mad pace. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. In the beginning it was a dictionary. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way.
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