She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. “We mustn’t have any unpleasantness, and Mr.
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