She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. " "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. You’d better not have all the money on you; you had better open a small account in the postoffice and draw it out a fiver at a time. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her.
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