There was a maiden aunt who lived in the North who might let her live there for a few weeks until she disappeared. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t understand why I wanted you to come here?” “Not a bit of it,” said Ann Veronica stoutly. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. “Just the box only. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. But I'm sure it's important. Never sent for the shirt. .
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