" "You are right, Sir," said the worthy carpenter, rising. CHAPTER XXVII. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. We shall have—hardly any money. “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. ” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. It doesn't annoy me; it only disturbs me.
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