“Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. It was a unique experience for her to wash him. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. When I went I was refused admittance.
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