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“You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. I was the last on board. " This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. In the upper hall he paused to listen. . "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. Mr.
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