Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. " "Is he alive!" vociferated Trenchard. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. If I am to have no other opportunity I will speak before them.
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