"What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. "You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, Sir," cried Mrs. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. ToC Thames Darrell's arm having been submitted to the scrutiny of Mrs. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat.
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