Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. "Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. The Leads. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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