"Austin will stare," thought Jack, "when he comes here in the morning. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. Man's fate is in his own hands. 7. Their small talk continued.
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