Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. Jack was caught, as in a trap, by the pendant tails of Abraham's long frock; and, instead of obtaining his release by his ingenuity, he only got a sound thrashing. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. ‘You see now how dangerous it is to play this lone hand. “Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr.
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