” The maid discreetly withdrew, and Anna stood transfixed, gazing with puzzled frown at her sister. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. “It’s his birthday. "Confusion! the rascal must have picked my pocket of your letters," whispered Kneebone, "What's to be done?" "What's to be done! Why, I'm undone! How imprudent in you not to burn them. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. Consider you’ve got resources deposited with me. " "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered.
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