Brendon felt his arm seized. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. But you shall swing, rascal,—you shall swing. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. The Leads. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said.
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