It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. Kneebone cordially on the shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. “Mr. . Drummond patted him on the shoulder. Kneebone's visit, Mrs.
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