“Lend me a kik-kik-quarter,” said Dudley Chester.
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At midnight sharp, Mr. Mitts saw his charge ascend the rear platform of the Chicago train just as it moved out of the gloomy Jersey City station of the Pennsylvania Railroad.
A young woman of slight figure, with a veil about her face, emerged from the interior of the car and threw her arms around the neck of Mr. Chester, late Quinlan.
“I thought I wasn’t mistaken,” said Mr. Mitts to himself.
The next week he received an envelope containing a scrap roughly torn out of a daily paper. It read as follows:
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And yet, within six months, Mr. Mitts received cards. They bade him to a reception given by Mr. and Mrs. Chester at the house of Mr. Thomas Copernicus.