“About my sister,” she repeated slowly. A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. Lucy? Come 177 on out. ” Anna had suddenly stiffened. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. “Were you thinking of private apartments, a boarding-house or an hotel?” she asked. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. \"I'm going to his baseball game, he's pitching for Lincoln, and then I believe he is taking me to dinner. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him.
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