“DEAR MR. . He was in the house with his mother. \" Mike retorted churlishly. . ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. “Why not? It might amuse me. He laughed to hide his uneasiness. ‘That was one of my own clever stories.
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