" "Twenty pounds," rejoined Mrs. ” “Yes,” said Mr. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. His eyes were narrow with desire like a panther’s as he grinned at seeing her visibly satisfied. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. She rested her head upon his shoulder.
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