She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. Marthe has told me that the house comes to my mother, Ma—ry Re—men—ham.
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