“I can get you,” Mr. Spurlock had not coached her on this line of conduct. His sister appeared. I mean my cut-offs and boots. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. “I’ll ruin your suit. I put your clothes out an hour ago. A true nun. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. There he stands. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. Now, come along, gem'men, and I'll show you some precious sport. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. This done, Edgeworth Bess, who watched her opportunity, slipped out of the Lodge.
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