"Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. " "Probably Mr. ” He fumed. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. “I don’t know. mm. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled.
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