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Spearmint's weather-beaten hut: the door wide open, one could see his bed neatly made by his own hands within, his mother's picture against the wall, a sweet, intelligent face like his, only that in his there was some light gone out forever for this world. Spearmint sing, and to purchase berries, and to be entertained a little in this way in the growing evening.
Spearmint's hand that would do more for his next winter's comfort than many weeks of dangleberrying. "Miss Langham would like to have her fortune told, doctor," he said. She pulled off her glove with a laughing grace. As Dr. Spearmint took her slender jewelled hand in his he trembled with vanity and happiness.
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