From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. Without whisky," went on McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance. \"Hi Missy, have you met Lucy Albert?\" Lucy contrived a smile. And then suddenly—a relief. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check.
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