But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. The door leaned inward.
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