"Well, since you force me to betray my master's secrets," replied Quilt, sullenly, "I've ridden express to Manchester to deliver a message to Sir Rowland. But suppose I go?” “Now, Veronica! No, no. ’ The lady looked unexpectedly smug. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. " CHAPTER V. ” “Of course,” said Capes, and threw a newly lit cigar into the fire through sheer nervousness.
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