It’s kind of the World War II thing. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. He uttered a short laugh. Norris, she revived a little. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. No, let us dine here, and then go and have our coffee on the boulevards. She had to exert tremendous energy not to sniff the air for his blood. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again.
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