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Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Had Gosse taken it as he escaped? What could she do? Gosse now knew that she was the daughter of Mary Remenham. “I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to see. I do not intend to allow you to forget. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat.
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