She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. But if you wouldn't have me positively dislike Jack Sheppard, you'll never mention such a subject again. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. Rowland and his companions instantly started in pursuit, leaving the lady to recover as she might.
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