"Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it. She came along with the fluttering assurance of some tall ship.
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