The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. “Gross. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham. " "What?" he barked. It surprised her she hadn’t thought of it before! She tried to explain that she was going to pay him forty pounds without fail next week. She looked up quickly.
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