‘That’s not much comfort. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. Wonderful! The water, dripping from you, must have looked like pearls. "And had you been the worst scoundrel unhung, I'd have seen to it that you had the same care, the same chance.
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