He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. Death belongs to God, young man. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. ” Brendon laughed softly. works. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea.
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