"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. ‘It is not your affair.
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