“John, don’t!” she cried. ” He writhed. Wood; "to be sure you are! I wonder how you dare show your face in this house, hussy!" "I thought you sent for me, Ma'am," replied the widow, humbly. But—he was cleverer than any of you. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. "Here's the door.
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