She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. She had thought of the lawyer who conducted the Remenham business, but she knew not where to find him. The doctor would never betray him. His tone was rough, almost threatening. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. CHAPTER XV.
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