“You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. " "Won't you take me?" "No; you must await my return here. " "Comin'! comin'!" returned the constable, shuffling towards him. “Sure. A detective will be here in a few moments to make inquiries into this affair. And go quickly that I may finish to search. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk.
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