The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. They took their places at a distant table. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind. He returned, \"Can I walk you home then?\" She was completely taken aback and did her best not to show it. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on.
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