"You base ingrate," she added, in a whisper, as she flounced past Mr. Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. *** Gerald vaguely noted that his junior leapt to his feet at sight of his former commander, and that Lucilla sat with her mouth at half-cock, dread in her face. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. There was a case, or something, some years ago. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.
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