“I may go to Hatton House later, but you needn’t wait. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. " "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve.
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