At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. We have so much to be thankful for.
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