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She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. "Jack Sheppard's fingers are lime-twigs. ” “Good God!” said Mr. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her.
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