‘I do not know of whom you speak. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. “She”, you say. And, yet, I don't know. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth.
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