CHAPTER I
PAULINE'S FLAG
Pauline dropped the napkin she was hemming and, leaning back in her chair, stared soberly down into the rain-swept garden.
Overhead, Patience was having a "clarin' up scrape" in her particular corner of the big garret, to the tune of "There's a Good Time Coming."
Pauline drew a quick breath; probably, there was a good time coming—any number of them—only they were not coming her way; they would go right by...
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