‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. She cursed herself for a fool. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. Mr. 1.
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