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“I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. " "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard. It was the moment for smiles. . Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. "How very fortunate it is," he observed, "that I happened to call upon Mr. How will we get there, I’d like to know? We’ve no money. His blood would be sweet with it.
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