"Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. “Those young men startled me at first, because they knew my name. He was going to tell me something— and he shut up. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while.
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