"Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. He recognized me at once, and he behaved like a madman. Neither the American Express nor Cook's had received mail for Howard Taber; he was not on either list. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply.
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