The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. “I thought you wanted to have a talk to me,” she said. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. The trio exhibited that indecisive air with which Ah Cum was tolerably familiar. “My Mom was a good lady. I know nothing about this affair, but some one has been burning documents.
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