Ann Veronica tried to seem absolutely unconcerned. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. ” “Coffee! Bah!” The newcomer picked her way across the floor with daintily uplifted skirts, and subsided into a deck chair of stretched canvas. The latter appeared to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put by, in the hope that they might turn out of importance in a scheme of vengeance which he meditated against the thief-taker.
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