’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. . Wood's ear, whispered, "secret agents from France—you understand—friends to the cause—hem!" "I see,—persons of rank!" Mr. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. " "My negligence, Mr. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. Kneebone on her way to the door, "how could you bring such creatures with you, especially on an occasion like this, when we haven't met for a fortnight!" "Couldn't help it, my life," returned the gentleman addressed, in the same tone; "but you little know who those individuals are. This is a good piano.
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