“I have no wish,” he said, “to altogether ignore the fact that you are my wife’s sister, and have therefore a certain claim upon me. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. Nice goings on. ‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. A lucky escape. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse.
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