They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. Wood. You sent back my Christmas checks. ’ ‘Wouldn’t you?’ ‘In Valade’s place, with so much at stake—and more perhaps than he thought, for if he goes to the lawyers he’s bound to find out about this house—’ Hilary said it for him. What he intended to do with it is of little consequence now. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow.
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