She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. A curious silence ensued. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. There was no rush. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. You wouldn't rob Mr.
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