She's not for pleasure, but for work. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. 'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I. You don’t want to look like Bozo. He addressed the boy as Jay. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked.
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