” The sensation produced was gratifying enough. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. ‘How do you do? I am so happy to meet you. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. “Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up.
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