In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. ‘A convenient desire, Mademoiselle Charvill. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. We’ve deserted the posts in which we found ourselves, cut our duties, exposed ourselves to risks that may destroy any sort of social usefulness in us. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. They were both dressed in every respect alike.
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