He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again the things she saw. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. These were yarns! As he was about to slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: by Howard Spurlock.
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