This was done, and Austin returned with a crest-fallen look to the table. . Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. They do a good job, huh?” He smiled at her. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend.
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