It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. ” “Because your nerves were exposed, that was no excuse for my touching them. Ennison?” Sir John hesitated. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. "It's a great world," was the manager's greeting.
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