"If any one's to blame, it's me. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lucy asked. Among the commercial enticements McClintock found a real letter. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. Politely Ah Cum stooped and recovered the photograph. The Night-Cellar XVIII.
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