The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. " "You needn't trouble yourself," replied Thames. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. Dorling said. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure.
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