She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. “Please call me Carol. ” The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament. His blood would be sweet with it. Oh God! my limbs fail me. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. Easy enough.
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