" "Thank you! thank you!" faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. It is absolutely a frightful neighbourhood, this. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. “Okay, Mom. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. A new thought checked her steps and she froze. Yon must be mine to-night.
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