It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart.
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