He glanced up. “I have no wish,” he said, “to altogether ignore the fact that you are my wife’s sister, and have therefore a certain claim upon me. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. Forgive me, but you have been looking, have you not, for some employment?” “Quite true!” she answered. ‘Quite wrong, monsieur. Blueskin will take care of the horses, and I'll go with you.
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