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” Chapter III ANNA? OR ANNABEL? Sir John was wholly unable to understand the laugh and semi-ironical cheer which greeted his entrance to the smoking-room of the English Club on the following evening. Light flooded the place. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. She is a stranger to you. "Bring him back with you. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. Nice, of course. At the same time Sydney and Brendon also vacated their places. I would even have taken a place as waitress in a tea shop. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible.
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