"Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. Mrs. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. He smiled. My poor Hoddy! I had to talk harshly, or break down and have hysterics.
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