The policeman raised his voice, slightly agitated. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. ” She was silent. . But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. . ’ Gerald grinned. " "We shall see," rejoined Jonathan, turning carelessly upon his heel. " "I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink.
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