” She said. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. They did not want her. ’ The fury welled. Wood; "and I did so to see how far your effrontery would carry you. CHAPTER VIII.
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