"Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. ” “My dear young lady,” the official said irritably, “this man would not have your name and address in his pocket without an object. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue, and go up with them. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am.
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