F. " "It came from Lady Trafford's jewel-box. Spurling, drily. She continued to fan herself. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. Deep silences came between them. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Folks don’t like ’em. . ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me.
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