The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. \"I'm going to his baseball game, he's pitching for Lincoln, and then I believe he is taking me to dinner. ‘Imbecile. You can pull it over on everybody else, Lucy, but not on me. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs.
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