Lewis Rand by Mary Johnston
page 95 of 555 (17%)
page 95 of 555 (17%)
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"Yes, yes, I liked it, honey. Don't I like all your stories? But I don't like Mr. Rand." "Will he stay always upstairs in the blue room?" "The Lord forbid!" cried Major Churchill. The door opened wide, and Mr. Ned Hunter put in an important face. "Are you there, Major? Here's the devil to pay. Rand's arm is broken and his ankle wrenched and his head cut open! The doctor says he mustn't be moved for at least a fortnight. I thought you'd like to know." He was gone to spread the news. Major Churchill stood still for a moment, then turned to the table, placed with deliberation a marker between the leaves of Swift, took up the volume, and restored it to its proper shelf. "It is getting dark--I must go to bed," said Deb. "Uncle Edward, who pays the devil?" "His hosts, child," answered Uncle Edward, looking very grim and very old. CHAPTER VII THE BLUE ROOM |
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