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"It looks like a foreigner, all right," ventured Tom Hughes, and was rewarded for his courage by a flash of passionate gratitude from Patricia's big gray eyes. For a year after the funeral they forget about the poor bereaved, and when they do remember her they speak to and of her in the same tones of voice they used at the obsequies. Then sooner or later some neighbour is sure to see some man walk home from church with her, or hear some masculine voice in her front garden. Mr. Blake gave Mrs. Caruther's little Jessie a ride in his trap and helped her out at her mother's gate just before last Christmas, and if the poor widow hadn't acted quickly the town would have noticed them to death before he proposed to her. They were married the day after New Year's Day, and she lost lots of good friends because she didn't give them more time to talk about it. The question he could not answer, so dismissing it from his memory, he retired to the smoking-room with a pipe and a novel. When Jen and David returned he intended to question both, and, if possible, get to the bottom of these thickening mysteries..
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Conrad
But Judith maintained a discreet silence, and David and Patricia fell into talk of school and study till the door of the great hotel swung wide to admit their little party. "No, we looked for them high and low, but didn't see hide nor hair of them," he answered, ruffing his hair in a way that distressed Patricia, who was very proud of his straight, shining locks. "We caught our first view of Bruce Haydon here—remember, Norn?" said Patricia, happily consuming her entrée. "Wouldn't it be fun if we'd run across someone else this time?" "I'll let you open the door—for luck, Judy," he said, holding out a key. "See if you can guess which door it belongs to.".
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