He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. "Come along! We'll start that concert right away.
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