“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. CHAPTER XXIII. Lose not a moment, Hobson. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. He seemed too noisy. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display.
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