On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. " "Well, well, since you desire it, I'll say no more," returned Wood. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. ’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. Upon which Mrs.
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