You have been burning paper, I see. CHAPTER XII. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. " "Here!" ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. Something in his tone pinched her heart.
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