They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. ’ Roding gave him a look of respect. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. " "You shall take my life first," rejoined Sheppard. CHAPTER XIX. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. Hill, Meysey Hill.
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