“I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. You would find things to laugh at even in Artemus Ward.
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