The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. ‘Laisse-moi. You say I know nothing. His literary instincts began to stir. The Reaper is not sated yet. I was engaged to dine with your sister and her husband, and I sent a wire. I could not keep away any longer. I don’t mind telling you chaps that except on the stage I haven’t set eyes on her this side of the water. I can’t stand it.
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