EARLES, Strictly Private Every one stared at Anna. White, my landlady, believes his story. "Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. The owner was at the door unhooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he had exposed outside for sale. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. She could not hide her face.
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