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A PHILANTHROPIST
“I suspected him from the first,” said Miss Gould, with some irritation, to her lodger. She spoke with irritation because of the amused smile of the lodger. He bowed with the grace that characterized all his lazy movements.
“He looked very much like that Tom Waters that I had at the Reformed Drunkards’ League last year. I even thought he was Tom—”
“I do not know Tom?” hazarded the lodger.
“No. I don’t know whether I ever mentioned him to you. He came twice
