Michelle looked at their reflections in the wall mirror. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Then instinct took over. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. "So, you young fool, I have found you!" she said, harshly. He destroyed her clumsily made dolls whenever he found them.
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