Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. ‘If you will not tell me about Valade, so be it. —What do you know of Thames?— Where is he?" "Don't agitate yourself, dearest girl," rejoined the woollen-draper; "or I shall never be able to commence my relation.
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