He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. Perhaps she might never come back to that breakfast-room again. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive.
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