” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. The stranger with a bow returned to his table. ‘Do not beg my pardon. When is the game?\" She did her best to overhaul her own appearance for 63 the greater part of an hour, blotting lips, fluffing the brush over her face. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open.
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