‘Dear me. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. Mac's. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler.
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