Sir John waved her back. “Reuben, come here. "For my part, I don't think you ever quite got over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. " "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. He never seemed to take full advantage while they were in his mammoth automobile.
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