But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. On the stranger's appearance, she was seated near the window busily occupied with her needle. For yonder went the loneliest man in all God's unhappy world. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge.
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