Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. Brendon’s guests,” she said, “and I scarcely think it would be nice of me to leave him alone with Sydney. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. I thank God for His sunlight on your face. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear.
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