Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. Could you just let me in? I have a surprise for him. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point. CHAPTER XXVIII. "Lord, if I can only remember to write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet.
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