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“So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. “I tell my Mom everything. I borrowed forty pounds from Mr. " "Of course," rejoined Quilt, maliciously; "every thief is so. Lucy? Come 177 on out. “It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared.
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