A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. And if you mean that he may have reconciled himself with his own father, you waste your breath.
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