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That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. No further responsibility whatever. What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. Three times she escaped. ’ She pronounced the name with painstaking accuracy, Gerald noticed. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. "Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. CHAPTER XXIII.
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