“I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. " "Lead the way to it then, Saint Giles," said Jack, in a tone of mock authority. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. It was explosive and gratifying. "Never mind," replied the tapstress. " "That's my own concern," rejoined Sheppard.
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