“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. He was amused.
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