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“Come sit with me, beautiful. " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere. " That was true, thought Spurlock. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. In the sixth center row sat an unexpected guest, his Classical Greek features stark in the yellow half light. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 13:35:14