Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. He rose slowly and extended it. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’.
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