Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. " "Decidedly so," replied Edgeworth Bess; "and I'll take this opportunity, while Jack's back is turned,—for he's grown so strangely particular,—of easing him of his snuff-box. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Just as they reached the end of the passage, they heard the voices of Jonathan and the Jew in Thames's late place of confinement. ’ Gerald tutted. Not wisely but too well. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. By-the-bye, do you recognize that?” Anna looked and gasped. They were sitting alone, Lucy. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. Not at all.
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