The room was dark and dusty. He lowered himself on to her. Jack, meanwhile, heard, the shouts, and, though alarmed by them, held on a steady course. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. Believe me, it will be better by far that you should consent to marry me.
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