I don't believe his name is Taber. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. There is something inconglomerate about us. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. Wild," observed Austin, as he put on his coat, and adjusted his minor bob. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come.
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