CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. " "Do you call ten guineas easy terms?" cried Wood, with a look of dismay. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. Seeming to feel that this statement called for explanation, he added, ‘I been working for the sisters six month, see. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. ” “Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled.
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