I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold.
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