Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action.
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