‘Your mystery lady, I mean. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. "Breathe at this phial," said Winifred. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast.
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