"She may yet be saved. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. He let go of the girl’s arm. Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of it. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity.
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