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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Voice in the Fog"

"
"Where were the Crawfords?"
"I did not wait to see them. My cab was ahead of theirs. What shall
we do?"
"Notify the police; it's all we can do. They cost me an even ten
thousand, Kitty. And I told you not to wear them on a night like this.
I'm discouraged. I want to get out of this blasted country. I'm
hoodooed." Killigrew walked the floor. He took out a cigar, eyed it
thoughtfully, and returned it to his pocket. "Because they happen to
be born in this smoke, they think the way they do things is the last
word on the subject. I'd like to show them."
"Dad,"--with a bit of a smile,--"I know what the trouble is. You want
to go home."
"And that's the truth. This is the first trip abroad I ever took with
you and your mother, and it's going to be the last. I can't live out
of my element, which is hurry and bustle and getting things done
quickly. I'm a fish out of water. I want to go home; I want to see
the Giants wallop the Cubs; and I want my two-weeks' bass fishing. But
I'll hang on till the end of June as I promised.


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