" "Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. I want to talk to him and go about with him. " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve.
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