She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. Kent say to it?" "He thinks so highly of it, that he says if he had a daughter he would give her to the artist," answered Gay, a little maliciously. .
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