” He looked at her intently. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. “Call it warning, if you like. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way.
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