‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. " "And what—what was your answer?" demanded the widow, eagerly. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter.
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