” Chapter XII THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE” On Saturday mornings there was deposited on the plate of each guest at breakfast time, a long folded paper with Mrs. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. "And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?" "You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House.
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