Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. "Take off the ruffles, Blueskin," rejoined Wild. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. “I know. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Stanley and his sister into a taxicab, and had waved an amiable farewell from the pavement steps. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account.
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