She had need of a devoted cavalier and Jack had proved eminently valuable. The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. The latch had not fully caught. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. Her mother missed writing for a week, and then she wrote in an unusual key. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched.
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