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The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. In another instant, the collision took place. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. Anna sprang lightly away across the street.
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