In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. ‘You obstinate little devil. ” “Oh no,” said Ann Veronica; “I have some work to do. I pledged my thumb that, dead or alive, I'd pay the wager if I lost; and I should like to be as good as my word. Come along with us in the morning. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement.
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