“I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. Will you tell her that?" "I will," replied Thames, earnestly. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from.
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