Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. Above the housetops it was different. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped.
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