Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. ” “It might become one,” he answered. Afterwards she hunted up the article in question, and it seemed to her quite delightfully written and argued. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. .
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