He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. CHAPTER XVIII. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. There are human limitations, and no doubt you reached yours. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack. I don’t care what else there is in the world. ” “I’m not. A couple of gilt straight-backed chairs only.
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