He drew out the check and the editorial letter. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. \" He said. Don't worry about me. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate.
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