” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. She recalled him. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. "Well," she said, in reply, "I may have done Jack an injustice. ” “I MUST talk with you.
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