” It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange and unexpected places. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. "Ay, Sir, from the Secretary of State, for your arrest! You're charged with hightreason. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. She's my mealticket.
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