CHAPTER XVII. “I wonder—I wonder if we shall ever get like that. You know, I’ve done no work at all this afternoon. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. Jack fell on his knees beside her. But I'll never part with your irons. Not only that, but he carried himself erect— the slight slouch which had bent his shoulders had altogether disappeared. We understand that, notwithstanding the serious nature of the man’s injuries, there is every possibility of his recovery. “He and I don’t seem to get on at all with our fellow-guests, as Mrs.
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