"My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. "I declare you throw me into an ague. From the sounds of it, he was better off dead. Mr. gutenberg. “Cheer up, Annabel. "Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James. " "Oh. So long as they're about, I'll always be rewriting them and wasting my time. Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room.
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