‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered. A large dog was then set at him by a stable-boy; but, striking the animal with his faithful iron-bar, he speedily sent him yelping back. ’ ‘But where? Where has he gone? Always he goes off, and he says no word to anyone. .
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