An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. “I don’t know why. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. . Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. Certain reserves went down on both sides. He looked distant, irritated. Got you interested in something, then? Would you like a peg?" "No. But I'm resolved to see Lady Trafford.
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