"Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. " "Oh, Jack!" cried his mother, falling upon his neck, and covering him with kisses. ” Lucy knew exactly which blouse Sheila had found. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it.
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