The nurse sent for him as soon as she saw that you were conscious. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. “Why not?” He asked. "Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea stuff, that yarn of yours. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did.
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