“A volatile temperament—yes, a volatile temperament,” Mr. " Together they were making habitable the second bungalow, which was within calling distance of McClintock's. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. "Farewell!" cried Jack, embracing them. They talked of a new substitute for dripping in vegetarian cookery that Mrs. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously.
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