Jack looked towards the door. McClintock. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. "Oh! Jack! Jack!—you little know what a price I've paid for you!" "Well, I'm glad those women are gone," remarked Shotbolt. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast.
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