‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. But about dat jonker," he continued, lowering his voice; "have you anything to add consarnin' him? It's almosht a pity to put him onder de water. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. How's that strike you?" "Very well, sir.
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