But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. “Think of the mockery!” she said. Fortescue in the drawing-room, and actually shake hands with him in an entirely hopeless manner and hope everything would turn out for the best. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. " CHAPTER IV.
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