“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. “Have you got to keep her now?” “To the best of my ability,” said Mr. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce.
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