When she saw however that this man was a stranger, and obviously harmless, her expression changed as though by magic. ‘You obstinate little devil. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. "Mrs. “Ugh!” she said. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. Care for a hundred up?” Ennison shook his head. Don't feel fussed upon my account. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. CHAPTER XXX.
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