“Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. “My husband knows all. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors.
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