‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. "Another moment, and it'll be too late. ‘But you know everything now,’ protested Hilary, keeping pace as Gerald took the stairs two at a time. Three a week is my allowance, and, if I get short ones, four.
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