But, perhaps Mr. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning.
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