A thousand eager assistants pressed behind him. This was enough for the poor widow. Imbecile. “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. While I have been pestering you, have you heard it? At least, you heard the first act. "Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay.
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