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Henry, O., 1862-1910

"Strictly business: more stories of the four million"

She sprang
past his detaining arm. "Elwyn!" she sobbed, and cast herself upon me,
and clung tight. "Elwyn," she cried again, "don't break my heart. I am
your wife--call my name once--just once. I could see you dead rather
than this way."
I unwound her arms respectfully, but firmly.
"Madam," I said, severely, "pardon me if I suggest that you accept a
resemblance too precipitately. It is a pity," I went on, with an amused
laugh, as the thought occurred to me, "that this Bellford and I could
not be kept side by side upon the same shelf like tartrates of sodium
and antimony for purposes of identification. In order to understand the
allusion," I concluded airily, "it may be necessary for you to keep an
eye on the proceedings of the Druggists' National Convention."
The lady turned to her companion, and grasped his arm.
"What is it, Doctor Volney? Oh, what is it?" she moaned.
He led her to the door.
"Go to your room for a while," I heard him say. "I will remain and talk
with him. His mind? No, I think not--only a portion of the brain. Yes,
I am sure he will recover. Go to your room and leave me with him."
The lady disappeared. The man in dark clothes also went outside, still
manicuring himself in a thoughtful way.


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