At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. “No reason. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure because business was so bad.
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