“Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely.
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