He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “As it is doubtful whether the man will live, we should be glad if you would identify him. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. ” “You have it,” he declared confidently. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying.
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