WARD, LOCK & CO. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. Spurlock advanced, the censer swung high. Give me this picture. “Nevertheless,” Hill said doggedly, “I am here to speak to you alone. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. To-morrow they will know the truth.
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