At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?” “Why not?” he answered. The one problem was that it didn’t fly. "Another time," replied the thief-taker, evasively. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. "Well, Jack," he said, after a pause, "are you disposed to go back quietly with me?" "You'll ascertain that when you attempt to touch me," rejoined Sheppard, resolutely. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity. She thought she had hidden well from him.
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