Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed.
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