"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. ’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. T' other gen'l'man said the letter 'ud explain all. But for perfect satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom. ‘Oh, famous. Go away now, there’s a good lad.
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