’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. "So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. I did it in self-defence. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. pgdp.
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