A lovely, fetching girl. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. Hearing the distant shouts, these fellows rushed down to the entrance of the court, and arrived there just as Jack passed it. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. At length, at the end of a passage, next to the cell where Mrs.
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