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He took a seat quietly by the maple-shaded window. Mrs. Kinloch was silent and composed. Her coolness nerved instead of depressing him, and he began at once. "I've ker-come to see you about the debt which my nun-nephew, Mark, owes the estate." "I don't know what I can do about it," she replied, in a placid tone. "We've ben nun-neighbors, now, these f-fifteen years, Mrs.
Skinner stepped to the window, but Speed halted him with a trembling hand and a voice of agony. "Mr. Skinner, I-I can't run that fast. F-fifteen is going some for me." "What!" Skinner stared at his opponent strangely. "That's right. I'm a lemon." "Ain't you the Yale champ? The guy that goes under 'even time'?" Wally shook his head. "I'm his chum. I couldn't catch a cramp."
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