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‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. "Your father said so before you," replied Jonathan, malignantly; "and yet it has tarried thus long. ” Courtlaw turned abruptly to Brendon. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever. "What did you do?" he asked, in a broken voice.
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