"Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. He was beginning to think about her inordinately. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us.
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