She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. The rest she meant to keep for her immediate necessities. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. Predictably, Charvill turned on him.
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