” He scarcely saw her face again. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. At length, when he saw no escape from the inevitable, he took the four title pages from the manuscripts and typed new ones, substituting Taber for Spurlock. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. A nine days’ wonder is soon forgotten. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. But I had to know for sure. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below.
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