’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. "So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. “I always shall. . It came to her that to marry any one but Capes was impossible. " "No; it is only—what shall I say?—troubled. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play.
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