He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Hope reared. S. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. Larry kept digging heartily into his spaghetti, not intrigued in the slightest. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. " Mr. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door.
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