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I carry my little wepping" and with that she touched significantly the little pocket of her dress. "I'm independent, I'm happy, The Polka's payin', an' it's bully!" she wound up, laughing. Then, with one of her quick changes of mood, she turned upon him angrily and demanded: "Say, what the devil do you mean by proposin' to me with a wife in Noo Orleans?
"Yes, Girl, The Polka's had a narrow squeak," observed Nick, stamping his feet which, as well as his legs, were wrapped with pieces of blankets for added warmth. Unconsciously, at his words, the Girl's eyes travelled to the bed; then, drawing her robe snugly about her, and seating herself, she asked with suppressed excitement: "Why, Nick, what's the matter? What's "
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