‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. It was empty. He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about.
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