She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. Here again the clothes were minus the labels. “Hello, Teddy!” she answered. "Good night, Master. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me.
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