" "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. You didn’t even do that Vee; not even that. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. Aren’t I asking—asking plainly now?. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark.
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