Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. She wondered if the second part would overcome his objections? Several times the words had rushed to her tongue, to find her tongue paralysed. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know.
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