Lucy stepped inside. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. There it is. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. His number was unlisted and unpublished. But McClintock's mind was perceptive, whereas Spurlock's was only dully confused. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe.
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