” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. The chair is in the veranda. She was tempted to touch him in the car as they drove to the empty house, but she refrained for fear of causing a car accident. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. He was inclined to be a good-natured person, and he had no nervous fears of receiving a snub. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.
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