Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. I’m so glad you’re not angry. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. "Tell Mr. But I can't consent to the course you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due consideration. It was a purse. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen.
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