“So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. He described her privately to himself as a splendid girl. " "What time is it?" inquired Jack. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. She leaves town to-morrow. My servant. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. She had behaved in every way perfectly. The boy would never know just how lucky he was. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags.
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