"I beg pardon," he said. Without a word, without a sign, Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring.
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