” His fingers touched hers for a moment under the ledge of the box. "Well, my dear, I've a proposal to make in regard to this babby of yours, which may, or may not, be agreeable. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. "Those tears will do you good. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. "How!" exclaimed Sheppard. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers.
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