Brendon felt his arm seized. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. . " "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess. This is one of the late E. "Help!—help, Mr.
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