Panic leapt into his eyes as he brought his wrist up just in time to parry the blade. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. It is the vapouring school girl. "I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other; "but, may I ask whether Mr. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'.
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