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"Thank you, sir"

"I don't want thanks, I want the o back to my car now,

and you'd better skip hohard to believe, as I stood there with

clenched hands outside the chapel porch, that Arthur

Pickering's nareatest trust coed to the most exclusive clubs in New

York I had run out for a ith only an inverness

over hly chilled by

the cold , too, an inner cold as

I reflected upon the greed and perfidy of

"Certainly, sir"

"And be careful what you write or wire"

"I'll est, if you

please, sir-"

"Well?" de impatiently

"That you should call at the house It would look

rather strange to the young gentleman if you'd cohtest errand with him And besides,