"We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. Everything was blurred. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him. " And, dexterously applying the implement, he forced open the lock. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. “I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. “I——” The door opened, and the doctor entered softly. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent.
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