’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. Rank ingratitude, I call it. " "You're a noble-hearted little fellow, Thames," rejoined Wood, casting a look of pride and affection at his adopted son, whose head he gently patted; "and give promise of a glorious manhood. I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. Hilary threw up his eyes. After all, you failed in obtaining the secret from her, Sir Rowland.
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