\"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. My nerves are shaken. \"Thanks. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. Never in this world! Let the hotel people take care of him; it's their affair. On Tuesday night, she was rather better, and I had left her for a short time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in the little parlour of which she is so fond —" "Well," exclaimed Jack.
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