Here they remained till midnight when, calling for their reckoning and their steeds, they left the house. ” “And I also,” Brendon echoed. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street.
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