It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. " "Thought so. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. "The door's open, and the room empty. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture. " "Now for it," thought the woollen-draper, "I shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies.
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