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CHAPTER VIII. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. “John?” He turned around in the recliner. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness. “No, I’d like to. “I was really interested in his stuff. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. Her eyes where glassy and shining. If the principal instigator of the crime, whom I afterwards encountered on the platform, and who was dashed into the raging flood by the shower of bricks, escaped, his preservation must have been indeed miraculous. It had gone with the rest.
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