"So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. " "You shall—you shall," answered Jack. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. She had often wondered if Hoddy would ever go back to it. They are long gone. Hang the wench! Roding was right.
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