’ Emile reached out both hands and grasped her shoulders. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. " "Thank you! thank you!" faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion.
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