For my blood you made it very hot indeed. ’ There was a chuckle in his voice. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. At no time did she feel bodily or mental fatigue.
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