"Oh gracious! he's lost. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. Her eyes flashed and she withdrew the dagger, pulling away from him. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. ‘He was very kind to me. She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. There was a certain amount of disputation, and meanwhile she went on at school.
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