” His walk became a jovial saunter. . These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. “Time for my Patience,” she said. "Yon's a dear man," said McClintock. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. CHAPTER XVI. Then he went on: “—and, indeed, to most of the established things in life is, frankly, unsatisfactory. \" Lucy said. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt.
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