‘Leave it, imbecile. "Why, this is your writing Dolly, and addressed to Mr. ’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. Her steps slowed. She glanced at him. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. She hastened past. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe.
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