"Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. Prudence? Mr Remenham’s sister that was. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. . ” “Why should I? I have told you that I do not wish for acquaintances in London. “Gross.
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