And, decently as he could, McClintock was giving the man the boot. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. ‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger.
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