A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. Challenge accepted.
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