’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. You wanted to play a lone hand. But he reckoned without his host. " McClintock without further speech strode toward his bungalow; and half an hour later Spurlock, passing, heard the piano-tuning key at work. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Give up your lonely hours of work here. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
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