MARGY’S STORY The light that sprang to Joe’s eyes at sight of Rose was unmistakable. He seized the hand that she had laid on his arm and drew her into a store entrance, where they could talk in comparative privacy for a few moments. “I say, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Rose,” he exclaimed, eying her admiringly. “I began to think I would never see you again.” “Whose fault is that?” asked Rose, adding quickly, as a shadow crossed his face: “What are you doing in this particular part of town?” Rose saw that she had a…
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