” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. ‘Both of them so wise after the event. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. “I am a fool,” he said. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. Of course. "I'm not going to get rid of you just yet. Get out your pad and pencil. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground.
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