Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. “Who decorated the school like this?” She asked, peering up at the multicolored banners that hung everywhere. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. It fits your style. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid.
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