For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. "I want to know what you've done with the rest of the notes—with the gold— and the papers you took away from my room!" rejoined Wild. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. There never is much left for me. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. ‘The truth is, Everett,’ she said brightly, limping up to the general and tucking a hand in his arm, ‘that the girl is you all over again.
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