She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. " "Well, for my part," observed Mrs. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. “Let me help you,” he begged. ’ ‘No, miss,’ cut in Kimble. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. .
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