“Why not? It might amuse me. “No, stay, Lucy. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. .
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