Been making herself at home all right. Still, he was puzzled because McClintock had not spoken. " "And what—what was your answer?" demanded the widow, eagerly. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. ‘Never mind that now. ’ To her astonishment, Gosse’s servile attitude vanished abruptly. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief.
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