What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. "Can't you take me with you?" urged the voice; "I'll make it well worth your while.
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