At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. \"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour.
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