The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. He added succinctly, ‘Windows are open. ” He said jealously. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. He declined to come in.
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