The doctor's smile is singular; there is no other smile that reaches the same level. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. Besides, I do not want a price on my head. I hope this is all. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet.
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