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 But isn't it just like a man, Daddy? He doesn't give the remotest hint as to whether he will land on the doorstep to-day, or two weeks from to-day. We shall live in a perpetual breathlessness until he comes—and if he doesn't hurry, the cleaning may all have to be done over again.

There's Amasai waiting below with the buckboard and Grover. I drive alone— but if you could see old Grove, you wouldn't be worried as to my safety.

With my hand on my heart—farewell.