He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. Jonathan shook his head. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. Now I know that you don’t live as close to the Beck house as you once pretended. . . ” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. ” “You may be sure of the one,” she murmured. ‘I don’t want to hurt you any more.
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