" "Do not go with him, Jack!" shrieked his mother. But pathologically, he is still on the edge. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. Sheppard.
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