“There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. ‘Couldn’t even trouble to make a pretence of motherhood. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. “So am I. By the by, my dear, I forgot to ask your name—perhaps you'll oblige me with it now? Hell and the devil!—gone!" He looked around in vain.
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