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HE story of my connection with Mrs. Willkit has resolved itself into one big question mark. I never play Warum without recalling her. There is a moral and a warning attached, but these I shall leave to your own discretion, merely stating the facts.

Mrs. Willkit lived (or lives, that is the problem) on the outskirts of the city and she became known to me through the medium of a deserting seamstress still possessed of a rudimentary conscience. This seamstress suddenly resolved to visit her brother-in-law's cousin in the country (where she could pay for her board in sewing and where cream was said to be still extant). She proposed to incontinently depart and leave me with the tide of spring sewing only two days stemmed. Sternly challenged for this perfidious betrayal of a six months' trust, she said doubtfully that there was a lady her sister's friend knew who might come.

I tracked down the address of the lady, not