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"And what are you doing?" "I? Oh! Cleaning up." Wall Street is not a Japanese tea-garden. It lacks the klop-klop of fountains. Yet, even in its metallic roar there may for exceptional beings be peace there. Not for Cassy, though. She could have screamed. A moment only. Lennox turned and both moved on. "Let's get out of this." Cassy looked up at him. "You forget my little errand." "Ah, yes!
Now came the klop-klop of a pair of sabots then the creak of a heavy key as it turned over twice in the rusty lock, and his faithful Marie cautiously opened the garden door. I do not know how old Marie is, there is so little left of this good soul to guess by. Her small shrunken body is bent from age and hard work.
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