He shuddered. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. " "Anything else, Sir?" "No:—stay! you'd better not bring up any silver forks or spoons. S. ” He shook her diminutive hand. Wood fared still worse.
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