"So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. As soon as the latter beheld him, she uttered a loud scream, and fainted. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood.
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