7. Come, mon ami, come!’ Ever faithful, Kimble dragged himself into a sitting position, gasping at the pain this caused him. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had been brought into contact. A rock gave way to deep water. But two weeks later he returned. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. Come to take leave.
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