In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. Had he been trying to get her attention before that day, or did he simply want his silly pencil returned? \"I'm John. Capes kept obstinately stiff, and spoke between his teeth. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. He tried again. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. It was only when they came into a square that daylight had a positive quality.
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