He had hired not one but two engineers to record the event, subsidized entirely out of his own meager pocket. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. Kneebone's. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand.
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