“Oh, that. ‘Well?’ she said. ‘To where has he gone off?’ ‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. You’ll come along of me, for you’re under arrest, too. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. There was a coffee equipage on the table, and some sandwiches, and the fire had been recently made up. "Why, you don't think as how they're crimps, do you?" Ben inquired.
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