” The two women shook hands. She leaned back in her chair. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. “A little nervous. As Mrs. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. I WAS talking to him before I saw his name on the card beside the row of microscopes. They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. Wild here!" exclaimed Mrs. " "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. ‘It needs not that you tell me. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook.
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