She could not explain in words why they disappointed her or that she was disappointed. A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. I miss them so. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink.
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