" "And I will, if I can, depend upon it," answered Sheppard, with a laugh. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. But it don't much matter—though he's a devilish shrewd fellow, and might have helped me out of a difficulty, had any occurred. Mr. Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office. It came with an extreme effect of re-discovery, a remarkable novelty. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. Three a week is my allowance, and, if I get short ones, four. Ann Veronica watched her and wondered about her. The shouts of indignation—the frightful yells now raised baffle description. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating.
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