" "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. Wood. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked. I wondered what you could be doing and what might be happening to you. You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. " "But, goodness me, the hotel will take care of him! Why not? They sold him the poison.
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