"
"And old Willie and Mr. Keebil and Snow Horton--ever see any of them,
Harry?"
"No; you see it is nearly two years since--"
"I have a little daughter--almost five years old!"
"Gramaw followed up in the papers when you were married. Flora Kemble
and Roy, they're both married, too."
"Harry, didn't you ever hear anything about--well, about my marriage?"
"Yes, there was something about it. I forget. You live in New York?"
"Yes, and, Harry, don't say anything when we get to your home. Just let
me walk in and surprise her."
"Yes."
More and more she noticed his indoor whiteness and the eyelids which
would twitch nervously.
"Do you keep well, Harry?"
"Fairly."
There was quite a walk from the car, across a viaduct, down a flight of
steps, and into a steep new street of flimsy-looking apartment houses of
the dawning era of vertical homes. But the Harlem River, neat as a
canal, flowed within easy view and there was something very scoured
about the expression of the just graded street of occasional vacant
lots, showing the first break in the continuity of city brick that
Lilly's tired eyes had encountered.
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