The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. Loneliness. " "You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically, "but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to assist him. Anyhow, ten minutes after I get to work I'll be rumpling it. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. No more.
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