" "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. Sheila, a normally sound sleeper, woke one night to find both her husband and her foster daughter had snuck from their beds, and this infuriated her. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. "Mr. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa. I’m taking no chances. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here.
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