‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. The carpenter did not hesitate a moment. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally.
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